No More Mistakes
by KatyLoveling
Summary: “Why are you wary of me then? I assure you that I have good intentions. I won’t bite—at least not very hard.” Small fires leaped in Draco's eyes as he added in a throaty murmur, “and not where it will show.”
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters you recognize.

A/N: REVISED. Read again! Used to be _Never Give Your Heart_, but I thought that this new title is much more appropriate. Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you! :D

"_Why are you wary of me then? I assure you that I have good intentions. I won't bite—at least not very hard." Small fires leaped in his eyes as he added in a throaty murmur, "and not where it will show."_

**NO MORE MISTAKES**

**Chapter I **

"Congratulations, Hermione! I hear you're going to make the presentation for that huge company. M.Q.S., is it?"

Hermione Granger looked up and smiled at the girl standing in the doorway of her office. "Thanks, Gillian. But I'm not doing it alone. It's a group effort."

"Oh, I don't know about that but even being on the team is exciting! Aren't you thrilled?"

Thrilled didn't even begin to describe it, Hermione thought wryly. Terrified, annoyed and yes, a little excitement were the words. M.Q.S. was a giant in its field and would mean thousands of pounds to the advertising land agency lucky enough the land the account. Hermione had worked hard on the campaign they were presenting this morning, so part of the glory would be hers—or part of the responsibility for failure. To everyone else at McNulty and Trent it represented money, but to Hermione it was a golden opportunity to rise at last from assistant executive to head of the accounting department.

"Do you think Draco Malfoy will be there?" Gillian continued eagerly.

"He'll be there, all right," Hermione answered grimly, wishing it were otherwise. She and Draco Malfoy aren't friends, they aren't enemies either. But what she head of that he was a fire-breathing dragon according to people in the know. He not only owned M.Q.S., but ran it with an iron hand and could be brutal when anything else displeased him. The fact that he was doing _something_ right because his company made millions, didn't excuse his ruthlessness in Hermione's mind. But then again, he was a Malfoy, and would always be a Malfoy.

"What do you say to a gorgeous hunk like that?" Gillian breathed.

Hermione gave her a wry look. "I have nothing to say to him."

"Come on now, Hermione! Draco Malfoy _is _an eligible bachelor. Are you sure?" Gillian teased her.

Cool brown eyes surveyed her from under delicately arched eyebrows. "I'm sure. I know Draco Malfoy personally. I've known him since I was twelve. I also expect him to look at me the same way he would look ate any competent advertising man."

Gillian's glance swept over the girl at the desk. Hermione's long curly brown hair was pulled back from an exquisite hear-shaped face and secured with a tortoise shell barrette, but the severity of the hairdo couldn't detract from the petal skin, the tilted nose, or the curves under the jade green silk blouse and Gillian started to grin. "If Draco Malfoy ever mistakes you for a man, they're going to have him committed. I don't think there's any of that though. From everything that I've read about him, he's a real connoisseur of women. Any man who can sleep with an Italian model, a French countess, and an American jet setter all in the same years has to have something for him."

Hermione's lip curled. "And you think that's admirable?"

The other girl's grin was impudent. "Well, you have to give him credit. The man's not all that young, you know."

"He's only twenty-eight," Hermione stated crisply, "not exactly over the hill." She had no interest in defending Draco Malfoy after what he had done to her and her friends for years, even though he had already apologized over and over for his past behavior during their last year and the times they bumped into each other unexpectedly. All she knows now is that he's a womanizer, a tyrant and probably a bully, but the way these youngsters denigrated anyone over twenty-five got under Hermione's skin. Maybe it's because she was a year older than him.

When Gillian had reluctantly gone back to the switchboard, Hermione stuffed some papers in a briefcase and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. It was idiotic to be so nervous but this account meant everything to her. It was her job, after all. It's what keeps her going these days…

After graduating from Hogwarts a valedictorian, she did not notice that she was throwing away her life as a great career woman. She and Ron Weasley had married two weeks after graduating. They did not have kids because she wasn't ready, and ignored the fact that Ron did not want such a huge responsibility on his shoulders. Hermione got a job, and was unfortunate not to accept the internship from St. Mungo's, just because Ron did not want her near any hospital. While he was training to be accepted in Chuddley Cannons, she focused on her work. McNulty and Trent were just rising, and she wanted to be part of it. John Warren, a good friend from way back, who was the owner, was good enough to make her the account executive, knowing how smart she was.

When Ron Weasley walked out on her, she was devastated, of course. But she was and is a strong woman. So moved out and moved to Wiltshire, a couple of blocks away from the main building where she had been working. Miles away from London and miles away from Ron Weasley. Her cool self discipline, coupled with a keen intelligent mind, was finally paying off and if there were scars left from her early, disastrous marriage, no one knew about them. The only signs were certain wariness in the brown eyes and a defensive set to the slim shoulders.

Walking into the opulent Malfoy offices a short time later, Hermione felt her nerves tighten. The presence of her boss and good friend, John, by her side should have given her moral support but she could sense that he was as nervous as she. They were directed to the board room where they found a number of executives of the company already assembled.

Except from one woman named Janis Marshall, who was introduced as Malfoy's personal assistant, they were all men. Probably a glorified name for secretary, Hermione decided cynically. From everything she had known or heard about Malfoy these days, he felt women had a very definitely place in the world—but it wasn't in business.

During the introductions she looked around for Draco Malfoy but the great man hadn't arrived yet. When he came in a few minutes later, the easy going aura in the room subtly changed and Hermione knuckles whitened as they clutched her brief case.

Forgetting their past, even without his reputation to precede him, Draco Malfoy would have been formidable. His height alone was commanding and the dark suit, custom-tailored for his broad shoulders, slim-hipped frame, could only be described as elegant. How he got those muscles, she'll never know, as she remembered the tall and scrawny kid she knew. But it was the enigmatic gray eyes that proclaimed him a man to be reckoned with.

His nod to the assembled executives was business-like and when the pair from McNulty and Trent were introduced, he acknowledged each of them with a firm handshake. It was as if he didn't know who Hermione Granger was. Hermione's fingers were icy cold in his warm clasp and those impassive gray eyes racked her face briefly. She knew that he was aware of the extent of her nervousness and annoyance but he made no comment.

A large polished table dominated the room and instead of parchments and quills, there pad papers and fountain pens at each place. When they were all seated, the meeting got underway immediately with no preliminary pleasantries. She and John were well-prepared and this professional approach should have reassured Hermione but she had the sinking feeling that if they failed to hold his attention ever for a moment, all their efforts would be dismissed contemptuously. It was the lengthy presentation with charts and art work to back it up. They took turns explaining the campaign, and as soon as she was on familiar ground, Hermione forgot her nervousness. It was a good concept, one she was proud of, and threw herself into selling it enthusiastically.

There was still a lot of material to be covered when Draco Malfoy stood up and looked at his watch. "It's after one, let's have lunch and we can continue with this afterward."

Hermione hadn't a clue as to how it was going and she longed to talk privately with her boss but there was no opportunity as everyone filed out together and crowded into elevators.

When the doors opened at the top floor, she stifled a gasp of surprise. John had murmured that they were to lunch in the executive dining room but this looked more like a penthouse apartment. There was a living room to the left of the big square foyer and an elegant dining room through a door on the right.

The people of M.Q.S. people led the way to the living room where a waiter took their drink orders. Comfortable couches and chairs were scattered around the room but Hermione gravitated toward the large picture windows that offered a truly breath-taking view. She was staring in mute appreciation when Draco Malfoy joined her.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?"

"One of the loveliest," she agreed.

He lounged negligently against the wall, looking down at the crowded streets below where pedestrians and cars looked like charming toys. "I've always enjoyed this view. I can't understand people who are afraid of heights. Like you." He smirked.

"Everyone is afraid of something, but I'm not scared of the sight. I'm more scared of falling," she said coolly.

"I suppose so," he murmured, an amused expression on his face.

Hermione didn't bother to respond. But after a few moments of silence, she said, "You're making it big, Malfoy. When we were in Hogwarts, I didn't think that this spoiled brat could do it better than me." She half-smiled at him, but her thoughts went to the day she got married to Ron.

"Thank you, I think. I honestly, didn't think it too. I was sure you'd be the Mistress of Magic…saving elves, changing the world, saving the world along with Potter and the Weasleys. Or the world's best healer or something," he said thoughtfully, not intending to sound mean. "I hope I may call you Hermione, as you can call me Draco. I'm not so used to being formal."

"Yeah…okay," she muttered, confused.

"The last time I bumped into you, you were married to Weasley, right? So how are you doing? A houseful of kids?"

Sudden hot anger flowed through her and Hermione glared at him. "That's none of your business. However, if you must know, I am back to Granger now." Then she moved to sit beside her boss as the lunch arrived.

When lunch was over, and they had all filed back to the board room, Hermione was enormously relieved. It was like being back on solid ground after picking her way through a mine field. The meeting continued for another two hours. Draco Malfoy's face gave nothing away at all which made her move nervous. After they had finished, the gather broke up into small groups as Hermione busied herself filling her briefcase. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco approaching and apprehension gripped her. It had been a long day and she didn't feel equal to any more verbal sparring. But her fears were groundless.

"I wanted to congratulate you on a good job," he said. "You and John really did your homework. Always knew the studious one, Hermione."

Ignoring his teasing and the way he said her name, she murmured, "Thank you very much."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "I've never worked very extensively with women before, but a female slant might be enlightening." She held her breath. Did that mean he was about to make a commitment? Her hopes were dashed as he smiled winningly and asked, "Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

The disappointment that coursed through her was followed by anger. She might have known! It was the old story—you be nice to me and I'll be nice to you. The advertising equivalent of the American casting couch. All you have to do is sleep with the boss and fame and fortune follow. Well, not this time! The irresistible Draco Malfoy was in for a rude awakening. No mane was going to use her again! She would make it on her own merits which were very good indeed, or she wouldn't make it at all.

Ice coated her voice and she gave him a withering look. "Thanks, but no, Draco. I'm on a diet." Without waiting for him to make his invitation more explicit, Hermione picked up her portfolio and marched out the door. But she was very aware of those gray eyes burning a path down her straight back.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II **

That week that followed was sheer torture. Every agency in town was pitching the M.Q.S. account so they couldn't really expect a swift decision, but the suspense was grueling. Hermione fluctuated between dizzying hope and grinding despair.

Even if they got the account, had she ditched any chances she might have had working on it? And if she did get the opportunity, what would be Malfoy's attitude towards her? He had been in her thoughts constantly but Hermione assured herself that was only natural. His good looks had nothing to do with it and that dominant aura of masculinity didn't cut any ice either. Actually, it made her feel uneasy.

Putting him resolutely out of her mind, she laid back on her seat. Then John entered her office with a wolfish grin on his face. "We got the account!" Pulling her out of the chair, she waltzed her around the room. "We are now officially in heave!"

"You mean I'm part of the account?" she cried.

"Of course, wasn't that the understanding?"

"Yes, but I was afraid…I mean…" Her voice trailed off. What was Draco Malfoy up to? She thought. "Did Mr. Malfoy say anything about me specifically?"

"No, I don't think so. Why?"

"Nothing…" she mumbled, surprised at the flash of disappointment that flowed through her.

Hermione threw herself into the project with a vengeance, working long hours and loving every minute of it. She managed on minimum amount of sleep possible and thrived on it, never feeling better in her life.

When a face appeared in her fireplace of her office unexpectedly, it put an end to her euphoria. "Hermione! Hello, Draco Malfoy here. You look remarkable happy this morning."

"Oh…Malfoy! Hello," was all she could manage.

"Draco, remember? How's the campaign coming?"

"Just—great!" She pulled herself together. "We'll have some exciting things to show you very soon."

"Good, I'll look forward to it, and to seeing you again. How about lunch today?"

So he hadn't given up. What did she have to do to get the message across. "I'm very sorry, Draco, but I'm busy with the campaign today," she said. "And I expect to be busy for some time to come."

There was a short pause and then his voice matched hers, icicle for icicle. "May I remind you, _Ms. Granger_," there was a sneering emphasis on his face, "that you're working for me now? I don't know what your hang-up is over dining in public with a man but I suggest you get over it. I want you to know what progress you're making and I want it by one o'clock today. I could take your report in my office but I prefer to do it in a restaurant where I won't be distracted by matters that my aides invariably feel are imperative. If this doesn't fit in with your plans, that's unfortunate but I will expect to see you at the Grand Laurent at one o'clock sharp."

Then the floo connection went dead abruptly and Hermione stared wide-eyed at the fireplace. The unexpected tirade had shaken her badly even though she had heard how imperious he could be when displeased. Could she be mistaken about his intentions? He hadn't sounded like a man who was angry because a woman turned him down.

By the time one o'clock neared, Hermione was a quivering mass of nerves. Looking critically at her beige wool suit, she wished she had worn something more severe that morning. The soft gathered skirt was too feminine and short matching jacket look frivolous with its edging of tan braid and twisted bow knot buttons. Even the severe effect of the brown silk shirt was blunted by a neckline that was too plunging. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Hermione was surprised to find Draco Malfoy already waiting for her at the long polished bar when she walked in at the stroke of one. The lovely crystal goblet in front of him meant that had even been there long enough to order a drink. He stood up to greet her and she felt dwarfed by his height and she felt curiously fragile and for some reason, her heart began to race. She slid hurriedly onto the stool next to his.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"I'll have what you're having." When the bartender had take her order there was a silence and she busied herself by pretending to look for something in her purse.

"Don't be so nervous." His voice was quietly amused. "I'm told my bark is much worse than my bite."

She shrugged, not quite meeting his eye. "You're entitled to both. After all, you're the boss."

"You make that sound like I'm the enemy again."

He was doing it again, putting her on the defensive. "No, of course not. We're allies now, aren't we?"

"I'd like to think so." Her drink arrived and he lifted his glass. "Here's to the end of cold war. And please, do call me Draco. I have told you a couple times before, haven't I?"

Although he didn't touch her, his eyes were like a caress, lingering on her soft full mouth and Hermione drew a sharp breath. When he chose to exercise that potent Malfoy charm, he was irresistible and she felt as if her bones were melting. If he had made the slightest move toward her, there was every possible that she would have to go to his arms willingly. It was a sobering thought and a clear warning. The thing to guard against obviously, was being alone with him since she couldn't trust either one of them. She also had put a stop to these personal undertones.

"John was going to call you today," she said crisply. "I believe he has some of those cost run-downs you were waiting for."

If he was aware of her reason for changing the subject, he gave no indication of it and they talked business for a while. It wasn't until they went in to lunch that the tenor of the conversation subtly changed. "So why are you still single, huh?"

"How do you know I'm not?" her answer was purposely casual.

"All right, then you tell me what night you're free." He leaned back and watched her intently.

"It's—it's difficult to say. I…well, I work late most nights." His mouth curved derisively as he watched her flounder around in search of a believable excuse and she felt the trap close. "I don't know why you would want to have dinner with me anyway!" she cried in frustration.

"Don't you?" He eyed the wide, troubled brown eyes and the exquisite curve of her trembling chin. "Come on, Hermione…I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'm really the same person in Hogwarts before," she told him earnestly. "And I've read about the people you go out with. They're all brilliant and beautiful. I couldn't hope to provide the stimulating company you're used to."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he smiled.

"You're punishing me for refusing your invitation for dinner, aren't you?" she asked bitterly.

He leaned forward and his strong warm hand covered hers where it was lying on the linen table cloth. "Why can't you believe that I admire you, Hermione Granger, and I'd like to get to know you better?" When she continued to look at him doubtfully, his fingers tightened over hers. "For an intelligent, beautiful woman, Hermione, you have less confidence than anyone I've ever come across. You're _very_ different from the old Hermione."

It was true that she didn't have much self-assurance left—Ron hand seen to that. But was she allowing his betrayal to color her feelings toward all men? Draco Malfoy was the first man to attract her so powerfully, but not the first who showed interest in her. Was that the basis for her antipathy and fear? Or maybe it was just Draco Malfoy that was making her confused. First of all, why would he ask her, of all people, out? He could easily have a handful of beautiful women. But instead…he's trying hard to go out with her.

He watched the play of emotions across her mobile face. "Let me ask you again. Will you come to my party tomorrow night? It's a Saturday and I won't accept the excuse that you have to work." Her eyes were enormous as she stared at him uncertainly, confused by all the questions he had raised. Without waiting for her reply, she smiled reassuringly. "I'll expect you at nine."

Hermione looked at herself despairingly in the mirror. She had never taken this long to get dressed and still wasn't sure she looked right. The short flame-colored chiffon had a demure enough neck line but the match slip underneath was cut daringly low. Also the slits on either side of the short hemline showed an alarming amount of leg when she moved. It wasn't her type of dress at all. How had she ever let the saleslady talk her into it? She grabbed up her purse and went out the door.

The front door was open and there was a man in black tux that was standing just inside the door way. After taking her wrap, the man directed Hermione to the living room just past the black and white marble-floor foyer. Music and laughter were audible and she had a glimpse of great many beautifully dressed people. Her reluctant footsteps took her as far as the doorway and then she panicked. What was she doing here? There wasn't one familiar face in the crowd. There was no way she could force herself to enter that room!

Turning back the way she had come, Hermione hoped the man in tux hadn't put her wrap away yet. But before she could make her good escape, a familiar hand closed on her wrist.

"What a delightful surprise Hermione." Draco's dark jacket emphasized the width of his shoulders and she felt again the impact of his sheer masculinity. The smell of his aftershave filled her nostrils, along with a subtle male scent that was all his own.

Gradually, his words penetrated and she looked at him blankly. "But you invited me."

"I know, but I wasn't sure you'd have the courage to show up." His eyes were warmly approving as they touched her long gleaming hair and swept over the fragile dress.

"Why—would you think that?" Hermione was afraid he could feel her wildly beating pulse and tried to drag her wrist away but he kept it in a firm grip.

"Never mind. Come, I want you to meet some people." She had no choice but to follow him since he didn't relinquish his hold on her wrist. If he recognized her reluctance, he chose to ignore it, leading her over to a small group of laughing guests. "Hermione, I'm very sure you've met before. But I want you to get _reacquainted_ with her. Meet Pansy Parkinson, the great love of my life."

The small dark-haired woman in the elegantly cut black velvet gown directed a mocking at Draco. Her big blue eyes were merry and the wide mouth was no longer sneering at her, but smiling. "If you believe that, you'll believe anything. The only thing we share is a common past."

They laughed together over what was obviously an on-going joke and Draco said, "Pansy is a fashion designer, as she'd like to call herself. But really, she just makes clothes!"

"Whatever, Draco! But yes, I'm a fashion designer," she beamed. Her eyes swept over Hermione's slender figure. "It was great to see you in a different light, Hermione Granger." She offered her well-manicured hand to hers.

Hermione shook her hand. "You too, erm, Pansy."

"Hermione is working on our new ad campaign," Draco said.

Pansy regarded with sharpened interest. "Good for you! That certainly beats parading around in fancy dresses for the benefit of a bunch of bored rich women. Although on second thought, it might be a lot easier than coping with Draco," she laughed. "I hear he's an absolute devil to work for."

"How can you say that?" His tone held mock injury, although his eyes were dancing. "You know I'm really a pussy cat."

"Who are you trying to kid?" Pansy hooted. "I've known you all my life, Draco, and there isn't anything tame about you."

Hermione agreed. Te beautifully tailored dark suit he wore, coupled with a snowy shirt and discreetly patterned silk tie gave him the look of an urbane sophisticate but she wasn't fooled. The leashed strength in that lithe muscular body reminded her of a stalking tiger.

"Come to my rescue, Blaise," Draco chuckled. "Hermione, another old buddy from Hogwarts, Blaise Zabini. He can tell you what a sterling fellow I am now."

The distinguished looking man he appealed to was the very definition of tall, dark and handsome. There was an air of confidence in his arua and Hermione could see his eyes are bright blue from where she was standing. After greeting Hermione politely, he smilingly shook his head. "Leave me out of your squabbles. Taking sides would be a clear conflict of interest," he joked.

"Blaise is my lawyer too!" Pansy explained. She linked her arm with his and looked up at him with mischief. "But I don't give you nearly as much trouble as Draco does. You'd much rather have me for a client, wouldn't you?"

The look he gave her was so filled with love that Hermione caught her breath, but before he could answer, another voice chimed in nastily, "That's not all he'd like."

Hermione looked at the third member of the group and saw a tall, slender man. His thick blonde hair was carefully styled and the even features would have been handsome except for the sneer that marred the effect. "Since no one is going to introduce us, I'll have to do it myself," he said smoothly. "I'm Theodore Nott."

Hermione acknowledged the introduction politely. That name seemed to be familiar. Maybe he was one of the executives in Malfoy's company or was he another 'old buddy' from Hogwrats. "Are you from Draco's company? I don't believe we've met?"

"Hell no, I'm a Quidditch player. I'm the Chaser for Puddlemere United."

"Are you now?" Blaise chimed in bitterly.

"Don't be too bitter, because I got the position you wanted and became a a lawyer instead." Theodore grinned maliciously as a white line appeared around Blaise's compressed lips.

There were undercurrents that Hermione didn't understand but they were vicious and they made her uncomfortable. Pansy was obviously distressed and a look of savage impatience flitted briefly over Draco's face. "I think it's time to get Hermione a drink," he said.

He seized her hand again and she had no choice but to follow him again. As they made their way through the crowded room, Hermione wondered about the people they had just left. Blaise was clearly in love with Pansy, and she seemed fond of him too which wasn't surprising. They were a _very _handsome couple but where did the brash Theodore come in?

"So, have you figured them out yet?" Draco chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Hermione was startled at the east which he read her thoughts.

He looked more amused. "Don't worry about it—you're not the only one to whant Pansy sees in Theodore."

"In _Theodore_!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, they've been going around together for a couple of months now."

"But he's—"

"An asshole?" He smirked. "He always was."

Hermione smiled back at him with amused eyes. Draco opened his mouth to say something else but Janis Marshall stepped forward and put her hand casually on Draco's arm. The long blood red fingernails were somehow a reminiscent of cat's claws. "Everyone has a drink and there haven't been any serious disagreements yet, so I guess we can relax and consider the party a success." The words were addressed to Draco but they were accompanied by a side-along glance at Hermione. And she felt annoyed easily.

"I can always count on you," Draco said approvingly and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

"Any time at all," Janis responded throatily.

Hermione's nostrils flared delicately at such blatancy and she started to move away but Draco's hand fastened on her wrist yet again. "Don't go. I still haven't gotten you that drink I promised."

"The bar is in the other room," Janis said pointedly.

"I'd better guide her there," Draco said. "Hermione has a tendency to get lost if I take my eyes off of her." His gaze was studiously innocent that Hermione laughed and he joined her, drawing her hand into the crook of his arm. It was just a casual gesture but it made her feel special. She was aware of Janis' furious intake of breath and she felt a small triumph. As they moved off, Hermione was very aware of Janis' malevolent gaze scorching her back.

When they worked their way on the doorway, Draco led her through it and onto the floor. As his arms closed around her, Hermione's pulses started to race and she stiffed automatically. "I thought we were going to the bar."

His warm breath fanned her forehead. "Too many people there. I'm tired of small talk. This is much nicer."

"You're the host," she pointed out. "You ought to pay some attention to your guests."

His eyes held a glow as he looked at her. "I thought that was what I was doing."

"I'm not a guest," she murmured. "I'm an employee."

"Not tonight you aren't. Tonight you're a woman and I'm a man." He pulled her closer and as her body molded to his hard length, Hermione drew a sharp breath. His hand at her waist seemed to burn through her bare skin.


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III **

"Why can't you relax with me, Hermione? I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to murder you." His strong fingers massaged the tense muscles at her nape, sending little shivers down her spine.

"I know that." She did relax slightly.

Tilting her chin up with his fingers so that she had no choice but to look at him. "Why are you wary of me then? I assure you that I have good intentions. I won't bite—at least not very hard." Small fires leaped in his eyes as he added in a throaty murmur, "and not where it will show."

Bright pink stained Hermione's cheeks. "Fat chance of that. I wouldn't let you."

His lips curved with amusement as he looked down at her angry face. "Sweet Hermione Granger. I'm afraid you left your sense of humor behind."

"I don't happen to think that you were joking," she said stiffly.

"You're right, I wasn't," he replied with a casual smirk. "But why do you get all fussy about it? Most women usually enjoy it…"

"I'm not most women!"

"That's for sure." His smirk widened. "But you can always say no."

"Is that what you're waiting for? Alright then, Draco, the answer is _no_," she flared. "Not now, not never! I'm not interested, Draco Malfoy. I don't need you or any man."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her intently for a moment. "That's a very dangerous challenge to issue," he said softly.

"I'm not playing games with you!" she cried. "What will it take to convince you?"

His hand slid lower than her waist, forcing her body against his. A warmth spread through her as he blew softly in her ear. Hermione shuddered involuntarily and her arms tightened around him automatically. "W-what do you think you're doing?" she demanded as she felt his lips on her neck.

"Hermione…" he said, instead of answering her question. He smiled, tracing her lips with a finger.

Her cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment and she looked around furtively. "Please, Draco. What will the people think?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it does!"

"That's your trouble. Why do you care so much what they think?"

She couldn't meet his eyes. "Let me go," she whispered. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

"Only if you promise not to run off."

She sighed and nodded her head. She made her escape as soon as he let her go. After splashing cold water on her wrists and combing her hair, Hermione felt a little better. She drew a deep breath and started down the hall to rejoin the party. The room was even noisier and more crowded and now she was grateful when Pansy called, "Come join us, Hermione." She never thought she would see this day…

Pansy was sitting with Theodore and Blaise and several other people in a conversation grouping at one end of the big living room. It was a quiet atmosphere and Hermione gratefully took the chair offered to her. Someone brought her a drink and trays of different delicious-looking hors d'oeuvres were placed on the coffee table in front of her, which Hermione ignored because of the butterflies in her stomach. They gradually subsided as through as she relaxed under the pleasant conversation.

One of the men asker to dance and as she circled the floor, Hermione saw Draco dancing with a voluptuous redhead who was draped as close to him as she could get. Her blue lace dress was cut so low in the back that Draco's hand was on her bare flesh, a fact that didn't displease either of them, Hermione thought spitefully. As usual, he seemed to sense her thoughts and smirked in her direction. Hermione turned her head away regally and turned back to her partner.

All in all, the evening passed more pleasantly than she had anticipated and finally few people started to depart and then the exodus gained momentum. Hermione stood up. Surely it would be all right to leave now. Draco couldn't accuse her of running away at this hour. But as she started toward the door, he appeared at her side. "I'd like you to stay for a while, Hermione. There's something I need to discuss to you about the new broom."

Hermione looked longingly at the door and gave a sigh. She nodded and then asked him, "Is it alright if I escape to your library? I don't feel like partying much anymore, I've got this headache coming in."

"Why not my bedroom instead?" he teased. "Alright, you're welcome to the books too."

She murmured her thanks before escape to the solace of his library. The first thing she saw was the sofa by the fireplace. The straps on Hermione's flimsy sandals were starting to cut into her feet and she drifted thankfully toward it. Taking off her shoes, she curled up and relaxed against the downy pillows. After all, they weren't her guests. If they ever did leave, which was she beginning to doubt, Draco would find her. Putting her head back, she closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh.

Someone was putting a blanket around her and Hermione snuggled gratefully into it. Her legs felt cramped and she stretched them out but they instead hit an armrest, rather than a mattress. Her eyes flew open, and for a moment there, she was confused but when she saw Draco bending over her, she remembered what happened and she sat up. "I—I guess I must have dozed off. Has everyone gone?"

"Yes, we're alone at last," his mocking voice informed her.

Ignoring that, she bent to put on her shoes, uncomfortably conscious of the rumpled state of her hair and clothing. "I'm sorry, but what about the broom?"

"Ah yes, the broom. It just arrived forty-five minutes ago. It's in the living room."

Her head bobbed up in alarm. "Forty-five minutes ago? I'm very sorry, I fell asleep. Why didn't you wake me?" She got up to her feet.

"I didn't have the heart." He gently smoothed her tousled hair, his hand sliding down to cup her cheek. "I didn't realize how tired you were. It was unreasonable of me to expect you to work after the party was over."

"I wouldn't mind." His gentle touch brought a glow to her skin and she hastily said, "But since everyone has gone, I might as well too, after seeing the broom."

The apartment was very quiet and Hermione was quiveringly aware of the fact that she was all alone with a man who disturbed her intensely. She gave out a yawn unexpectedly. "I'll tell you what—we'll have some coffee, and if that doesn't wake you up, I'll take you home." Before she could argue, he pushed her gently back into the sofa. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Hermione used the time to put on a touch of lipstick and ran a quick comb through her brown tresses. It surprised her that Draco Malfoy was carrying a tray that held a platter of sandwiches in addition to a silver pot of steaming coffee. That was then, she knew, this was a different Malfoy.

"I have a feeling you didn't eat anything tonight and I thought you might be hungry by now."

Surprisingly, Hermione did feel hungry. "That's very thoughtful of you." Hesitantly, she took a bite, but as her hunger came, she ate more confidence because he was watching her very intently.

"You have me puzzled, you know. I can't quite figure you out."

Wiping her fingers carefully on a napkin, she still avoided his gaze. "Perhaps because you keep looking for things that are not there. I can assure you I'm quite ordinary."

His mouth curved as he regarded her delicate face and lingered on the long eyelashes that sought to veil any thoughts the brown eyes might reveal. "Ordinary women don't build walls around themselves. The thing is I want to know why."

"Why are you so afraid to let yourself…feel?" When she didn't answer, he asked her curiously, "Was it Weasley? Or some other man? A family member?"

Hermione felt the conversation had gone far enough and she set her chin determinedly. "That's none of your business. Now, if we please get to the broom. Let's get down to business." She stood up abruptly.

Compassion flitted across his face for a moment before he put his hands on her shoulders. But as she flinched away, he released her immediately. Pushing her gently back on the chair, he said, "Sit down and finish your coffee first."

Draco leisurely loosened the knot in his tie and when he started to unfasten the top button of his shirt, Hermione cried warily, "What are you doing ?"

He eyed her with amusement. "I was going to roll my sleeves up so we can get to work but it if disturbs you…"

"Oh, I see…no, of course I don't mind."

She watched uneasily as he removed his jacket tie, but when his broad chest started to appeared in the widening v of his shirt, Hermione dropped her eyes to the cup of the rapidly cooling coffee in front of her.

With a low chuckle of amusement, Draco stood up and went out of the room. While he was gone, Hermione was deep in thought. How did he know about her and Ron? Also Draco Malfoy had touched inside her that she thought was dead and buried. He was the first man since Ron that made her feel vulnerable and it struck terror in her heart. He came back with a package in his hands and proceeded to open the package. Then he pulled out a magnificent-looking broom. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful. It made the Firebolt look like any old sweeping broom," she said excitedly. "After McNulty and Trent get through with this, no decent Quidditch player will feel respectable without this."

"And I won't feel respectable unless I've seen you naked."

"Is that your idea of a joke?" she asked angrily.

"Actually, no. It's a suggestion."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I want to take you to my bed right now."

His eyes were a deep smoldering gray as they moved over her slim body. Hermione started to tremble even though he made no move toward her. She managed a shaky laugh. "Well, at least you're honest about it."

"I will always be honest with you, Hermione."

"Thank you for the small favors," she said sarcastically.

"At least you didn't insult my intelligence by claiming to be in love with me."

"No, I'm not in with you—yet. But yes, I do want you. I've wanted you since our graduation ball, when I bumped into you at Muggle London, and especially when I saw you at my office to make that presentation. You were so gallant. When I took your hand to shake it, it was like holding a small frightened bird. I want to take you in my arms, right then and there."

Hermione stiffened. "Are you trying to tell me that I didn't get this account on my merits?"

Draco smiled. "Calm your ruffled feathers, little bird. That's not what I'm saying at all. One thing is business, the other is pleasure. It was just fortunate that your agency made the best presentation. It saved me a lot of trouble."

She was thoroughly bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"If you hadn't gotten the account, you wouldn't have felt too kindly toward me and I'd have had to find other ways to pursue you."

"You mean you would have wanted to see me anyway?" she asked incredulously, not believing him for a moment.

This man could have his pick of women. It had been amply demonstrated at the party tonight. Janis wasn't the only one buying for his attention. Hermione had been conscious of the many jealous glances directed at her by women much more stunning than herself. The only reason she could think of for Draco's behavior was that she was a challenge. Like climbing a mountain just because it was there.

"If McNulty and Trent hadn't gotten the account, you wouldn't even spare me a second glance," she told him crisply.

He moved closer and the blood raced to her head, leaving her toes and fingers icy cold. She took a deep breath but inhaling his clean male scene was anything but calming. When his warm hand cupped her cheek, the thumb idly tracing the curve of her jaw, Hermione's teeth caught the edge of her lower lip.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe a man could be interested in you? Should I enumerate the reasons?"

"No, I—"

"Don't interrupt," he ordered. "I'm about to tell you things about yourself you evidently don't know. First, there's your hair." He gathered the curly mass in both hands and let the silky strands slip through his fingers. "It feels like silk…even if they tend to get wild sometimes." She blushed and he touched her cheek with a gentle forefinger. "You skin is flawless except for a few freckles here and there. And it feels like velvet to touch."

"Draco, please don't—"

"Shh. I have just begun." He smoothed her eyebrows. "These are delicate feathers, and your eyes—" She couldn't look at him and the think lashes dropped against her cheeks but he was relentless. "Look at me, Hermione." When she was unable to, he laughed and kissed the tilted tip of her nose. "Alright, then I'll tell you about your mouth." His lips touched hers gently and they trembled under the light caress. "Your mouth is an invitation that I could never resist," he murmured.

His arms enfolded her, drawing her slightly body close to his hard form. Hermione found herself drowning in his blandishments even while she fought the deadly magnetism he was deliberately weaving around her.

Summoning all her strength, she tried to push him away. "Why are you doing this to me?" she cried. "You could have any woman you fancied. You don't really want me."

"Do you honestly believe that?" His mouth covered hers, parting her lips with urgency she could not deny. She clung to him helplessly, allowing him to plunder the sweetness within. When his arm surrounded her waist and hips, she let him mold her body to his, trembling with her long denied need.

Hermione made one last desperate attempt. "Draco, this is wrong!"

"Why? Because you want it so much?" His lips caressed her throat, trailing a path of fire down its creamy length to the soft cleft between her breasts.

He took the delicate chiffon covering in his teeth, gently teasing the fabric aside to reveal one pink nipple. Her hands clutched at his muscular arms convulsively but she shook her head trying to summon the willpower that was fast slipping away.

"Give in to it, Hermione. For once in your life, do what you really want to do." His hand cupped her breast, stroking and caressing. Hermione closed her eyes as waves pulsating sensation washed over her. "You're a lovely, passionate woman. And you have denied yourself too long." His low vibrant voice had a hypnotizing effect and unconsciously, she pressed against his palm glorying in his hard masculine touch.

"That's my beautiful girl," he murmured as his mouth closed over the taut nipple, sending a shock of desire through her whole being.

Her fingers tangled in his blond hair and she arched her body against his. Hermione ached with a longing she could no longer deny. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. As the soft bed enveloped her, she tensed momentarily in alarm but he lay down beside her and cradled her to him. His mouth covered hers reassuringly while his hands gentled her, caressing her slowly, buring a path through the think fabric of her gown. When his tongue traced the curve of her close lips, she parted them, allowing the entry he so sensuously demanded.

A consuming passion possessed her and the soft purr of her zipper sliding down didn't even penetrate her consciousness. When Draco slipped the fragile garment to her waist, Hermione longed for closer contact and she undid the rest of buttons of his shirt and pressed her softness against his hard chest, delighting the feel of his muscles under her fingertips.


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV **

He held her close, kissing her eyelids, her cheek, the vulnerable spot behind her ear. His teeth gently worried her earlobe and she quivered with delight. He placed her against the pillows and looked at her with glowing eyes. His hands spread out over her body, the long fingers tracing the line of her collar bone, then sliding down over her breasts, her rib cage, her stomach to her hips, where his two hands came to rest.

He explored the satin skin of her stomach, sending thrills of excited through her heated body and then slowly pushed the crumpled dress over her hips and down her slender legs, his hands trailing sensuously along their length. A pair of lace panties was now her only covering and Hermione's legs twined with Draco's nervously. Draco kissed the soft skin in the back of her knee and when she jerked away from his questing mouth, he placed both hands on her hips and pinned her firmly to the bed.

"Every part of you is beautiful and I want to know every delicious inch." His eyes devoured her and Hermione's lashes fell before the flames in their dark depths.

Draco's mouth claimed hers passionately and with a soft sigh, she wound her arms around his neck, parting her lips as the kiss deepened. His expert caresses brought mounting excitement and he again played and teased her breasts.

His hands explored her more intimately and when he ran a teasing finger between her legs, she gasped. Liquid fire seemed to run through her veins when she finally lay nude in his arms, she could feel that his passion was equal to hers.

He pressed his mouth to hers. Draco shrugged out of his shirt and reached for his belt buckle. She couldn't bear to let him go and her hands spread out over his shoulders and chest, trailing her hand down to his waist, and lower…driving him to feverish haste.

Hermione wondered later how long doorbell was ringing before it penetrated their consciousness.

Draco's startled eyes went to the clock on the night stand. "Two thirty in the morning! Who…? It doesn't matter—to hell with them."

His bent his head to hers but Hermione said, "You'd better get that door. It must be so important to disturb you at this time of night."

At first, she thought he was going to refuse but then with a reluctant groan, he rolled over and started putting on his pants. "I suppose you're right," he started for the door.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'll be back as soon as possible. This is just important. Someone had come and set fire to the main factory."

She closed her eyes when he kissed her and she opened them to watch as he picked up the discarded shirt. Shrugging broad shoulders into it, he left the room with one last longing look towards her.

When the door closed firmly behind him, she wrapped herself in the bedspread, her whole body starting to shake as she just then realized the enormity of her surrender. If the door bell hadn't rung! Or if there wasn't someone who wanted to sabotage the factory. She couldn't beat to think of it. It was all she could do to wait until Draco was gone before jumping out of bed and making her escape.

She sprang up and flung on her clothes in a matter of minutes. It was essential to get away now before the hunter returned, and she was like a small, wild creature fleeing from danger.

Hermione slipped out of the room but not before reading the letter which was on the floor then tiptoed down the hall looking frantically for her purse. She ran back to the library before running the out the door. It was when she got back to her own apartment when realization set it. Walking purposefully into the bedroom, she stropped off the red chiffon dress and stuffed it in the laundry. The rest of her followed suit and she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Standing under the cleansing water, Hermione scrubbed her body until it glowed but nothing seemed to remove the sensuous touch of Draco's hands. In despair, she raised her face to the stinging spray but his image appeared behind her closed eyelids—handsome, dominating, and utterly male.

What the _bloody hell_ had made her submit to him like that? She thought, as she dried herself with a white fluffy towel. She almost had sex with Draco Malfoy! But no…it wasn't just _sex_, it felt a lot like…_making love_. Yes, it seemed more appropriate. Looking at her hands, they were trembling. She was playing a dangerous game. Never had she felt such a desire for a man. Not even Ron and her young self was crazily in love with him at that time! The last thing she wanted to have is an affair with some like Draco Malfoy. And why would he want her, she still didn't know.

It was almost sunrise and she hadn't so much of a wink of sleep. The silence was comforting and unnerving at the same time. Draco invaded her thoughts through out the rest of the night. She was thankful that it was Sunday and she had no work until tomorrow. Still staring up at the ceiling, she still wondered why Draco would bother with her.

Whatever it was, he was causing her stress and lack of sleep. She did sleep later though, after a cup of hot chocolate later.

The next day had been quite terrible. Draco kept sending memos to her office. Her co-workers eyed her curiously but chose to ignore it and concentrate on her work done. It was when John walked in her office with a wary expression on his face.

"Hermione I was just talking to Malfoy and I could feel the tension him. He looks like hell and said he needed to talk to you in person. You have to be in the office within an hour."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Why? Did he say anything else in particular?"

"No, just meet him. We can't screw this up. You know that, don't you?" John's expression had not changed.

Hermione reluctantly agreed, and John didn't bother to hide his relief. Fifteen minutes later, Hermione found herself standing in front of the main entrance of Malfoy's office. She was once again, trembling.

She met Janis on her way inside.

"Mr. Malfoy needs you in his office and he's furious," Janis said with a small smile. Hermione could tell she was pleased at the false thought that Hermione screwed up with something and Draco decided to end the campaign.

As soon as she foot in his office, she felt his brooding mood. When the door closed quietly behind her, Draco was in a towering rage. He motioned for her to sit at the lounge chair and she sat quietly. Draco paced in front of her. Then he stopped and looked at her with furious eyes. "What the hell did you think leaving just like that?"

"I'm sorry we had some trouble without those three-color layouts you wanted. Nothing serious but I had to—"

"I don't give a damn about those layouts and you know it! I want to know why you ran out on me."

Hermione waited until her heartbeat was steady. Her gaze was cool as it swept over his face. "I didn't run out. I just went home. There is a vast difference."

"I'm not in the mood to split hairs! In fact, I'm not in the mood at all," he said dangerously. "I want an explanation."

"I don't see what there is to explain."

"Will you stop being so childish? I'm sorry I had to leave you! But you know I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't important!"

She couldn't believe her ears. He though she had left in a pique because their lovemaking had been interrupted by business. He had no idea of the enormity of her shame and humiliation. Wasn't that better than having him know the truth?

"I'm sure you'll get the new figures from us, if it's necessary and of course, we'll work with you any way we can," she said crisply.

"Hermione, don't be like this…" His voice softened and he sat down next to her, taking both of her hands in his. "Have dinner with me tonight and let me make it up to you."

Hermione tightened convulsively on his hand. But her voice was controlled as she answered, "I'm sorry, but I'm held up with something this evening."

"And every night this week, I suppose," he commented sarcastically.

"Very possibly."

"Alright, Hermione, I'm not going to beg," he said coldly, releasing her hands and stood up with his back to her. "The only thing that bothers me is how I could have been so wrong about you."

"Well, you win a few, you lose a few," she said with flatness that masked her inner turmoil.

"I suppose so," Draco agreed contemptuously. There was a slight pause. "But just remember—I don't like to lose," he warned softly.

Hermione nodded. "If that is all, I'd like to get back to work." Without bothering to wait for his reply, she walked out of his office, noting the small mischievous smirk on Janis' face, stating the obvious that she had been listening in. Walking back to her own office, she thought, she made a worse enemy out of him and they both knew it.


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V **

After another sleepless night, she was in despair. If this kept up, she wouldn't have to worry about avoiding Draco—he wouldn't want her. Inspecting the pale smudges above her cheekbones, she ignored the beauty of her own brown eyes.

The day began as usual. She was back at her own desk after she straightened out every error she had in the main office. Before she could do any of her own work, her attention was riveted on a note sitting in the middle of her clean desk.

_Ms. Granger, this is Janis Marshall. Draco is very displeased and he wants to see you again immediately. Apparently, it's one of those models for the women's Quidditch robes. He doesn't like one of them. He says they're completely wrong. He holds you personally responsible and he wants to discuss the matter with you in his office as soon as possible. We'll be waiting for you._

Hermione frowned as she finished reading the letter. "I wasn't the only one involved…" she murmured bitterly, crumpling the note and throwing it in the trash can.

She sighed and got her purse. Another great plan of the great Draco Malfoy, she thought sarcastically.

Janis was going to be present at the inquisition too. Draco was taking great pains to humiliate her properly. Hermione set her teeth grimly. If he thought she was going to take his abuse meekly, he'd better revise his thinking.

Draco's handsomely paneled office stood in front of her again. He was an intimidating sight. Just like the last time, but righteous anger sustained Hermione. The bring flags of color in her cheeks matched her rose dress. "You needed to see me again?"

"Yes, take off your coat. This might take a while." When she had angrily flung it over a chair, he looked over her coolly.

His glance was almost physical as it roamed over her body and Hermione felt her pulses quicken ever as her anger rose. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janis enter the room and Hermione forced herself to calm down. "I'm sorry that you're displeased with the models, but it's a matter that is easily remedied."

"Draco likes things done correctly for the first time," Janis said smugly. She was obviously looking forward to the coming scene with great relish.

Draco gave Janis a hooded look. "I believe Allen has those graphs ready. Why don't you go check them out?"

So Janis wasn't to be in on the flogging after all. Hermione wondered why he had changed his mind. She waited until the other girl had made a reluctant departure and said icily, "Perhaps we can get down to business. Which girl do you object to?"

"The brunette."

Hermione was incredulous. "Anna Travis is one of the top models in just about all of Europe!"

"And I'm sure she appeals to every woman like yourself," he agreed contemptuously. "That's why I can see your fine hand in the selection."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

He looked over her appraisingly. "You're a lot alike as a matter of fact. Oh, not in appearance maybe, but she projects the same kind of personality—a sensuous tease who promises everything and delivers nothing."

Hermione gasped in shock and then fury engulfed her. "Too bad we're not using male models for the Quidditch robes for men. You could pick one just like yourself—arrogant, domineering and tricky."

"What's up with personalities?"

Her voice rose. "You started it!"

"You see, that's the trouble with women," he told her calmly, "they're too emotional."

Hermione clenched her fists. "Perhaps you would rather deal with a man."

"Not necessarily." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "I usually get on very well with most women."

"Since I'm an exception, then we'd better do something about it." Hermione could believe she was actually giving up the prize she had worked so hard for, but he made it impossible for her to continue on the campaign. "I'll tell John to assign someone else to your account," she said dully.

He watched her intently. "I never figured you for a quitter, Hermione."

"What more do you want from me?" she cried. "I'm giving up my promotion, isn't that revenge enough for you?"

"You're not leaving."

So he did have more in mind for her. Well, he would have to find someone else to torment. Too bad it was winter, she thought incoherently, otherwise he could pull the wings off of a few butterflies. "Yes, I am leaving, Mr. Malfoy, and there is nothing you can do about it."

He stood up and faced her across the wide desk, his face a cruel mask. "You think not? If you leave this campaign in the middle, I'll see to it that you're blacklisted in every agency in England!"

"You wouldn't do that!" Her wide, frightened eyes sought his and there was no need for him to answer. It was written on his implacable face.

"Tomorrow, we will choose a new model," he told her, effectively closing the subject.

Hermione bowed her head in defeat. "I'll have the person in charge for the models send over a new batch of photos."

His eyes were flinty as he said, "No, you will bring them yourself. Not by owl either. I want to show you exactly what I look for in a woman and once you learn that, perhaps we could get along better."

"Draco, I—"

"That's all, Ms. Granger." He looked at her with complete disinterest. "You can close the door on your way out."

Hermione walked slowly back to her office building, oblivious to the chilly wind that was sending others scurrying. The man was a devil and she was completely at his mercy. Everything she had heard about him nowadays was true—he was utterly ruthless. He was worse than that little kid who used to tease and insult her during those early years in Hogwarts. What would it take to satisfy him? It would have better if she had slept with him, Hermione thought wildly and immediately shuddered away from the image. Remembering the passion he had so easily evoked, she shrank in fear. Hermione knew intuitively that if she ever gave in to him, he would be like a drug that she couldn't do without. Draco Malfoy already had enough power over her.

Hermione thought she had her share of shocks for the day, but when someone knocked on her office door proved her wrong.

"Herms! It has been a very long time."

Hermione didn't have to look up at that person. Only one person called her that—her ex-husband, Ron, and she always hated it. "Ron! What are you doing here?" she asked unenthusiastically.

"Nothing, really. I was just in town for a game for a few days and I thought I'd visit you." His smile denied that there had ever been any bitterness between them.

"Why would you want to see me?" Hermione eyed him warily, not even bothering to offer him something.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Don't be that way. Just because things didn't work out between us, that doesn't mean we can't be friends again."

Even knowing him as we;; as she did, Hermione scarcely believed her ears. Was that what he called the pain and disillusions she had suffered—things not working out? But what good would it serve to drag it up again? "I don't think we can call ourselves friends again exactly, Ron, but you're right. We can at least be civil. How are you?"

He sat down across from her desk and flashed her that confident smile on his weak handsome face. "Just great, but I really missed you though. How about lunch tomorrow? I'd ask you for dinner tonight but I'm tied up with something."

"Is your…" she hesitated, his wife's name sticking in her throat. Partly the reason of him leaving her was for that Marilyn woman. She heard from Ginny that she was the sister of the Chuddley Canons' coach.

Hermione's first impulse was to refuse. Ron was associated in her mind with pain and she had succeeded in burying him deep in her subconscious. Draco was right about her building an impregnable wall around her emotions. She caught her breath, remembering that memorable lapse. But that's all it was, Hermione told herself fiercely—an incomprehensible aberration that she couldn't even be blamed for. Draco was experienced enough to break down any girl's resistance. As for Ron, she could meet him again with complete impunity.

"Sure, I'll have lunch with you, Ron. Shall we say one o'clock at the Grand Laurent? It's in the Lombardy Hotel." The choice had been deliberate. She would exorcise the ghosts of both men at the same time.

He flashed her one of those confident smiles. "Actually I'm staying in that hotel with the rest of the team. I'll see you tomorrow." He leaned forward to kiss her cheek but Hermione leaned back in her chair.

Hermione shook her head. "You may go now, I still have work to do."

Hermione had herself firmly under control the next day which was fortunate because Draco was at his devilish best—or worst. None of the beautiful girls in the photos pleased him and to make matter worse, Janis floated in and out, adding her special brand of irritation. In addition, Draco was constantly received owls and turning his attention to other matters as though Hermione's time was supremely unimportant. She was finding it increasingly hard to hold onto her temper, but a certain glint in his eyes warned her that she would welcome an explosion and was indeed, goading her into one.

When noon approached, Draco swept the photos aside negligently. "We'll eat upstairs in the dining room. Maybe some food will get you back on the right track, Ms. Granger." He looked pointedly at her slender legs which were virtually the only parts of her anatomy visible since she had on a tailored suit and shirt with a high collar. "You look like you could use some nourishment."

Hermione burned with impotent resentment. Perhaps she was getting a little wan under his determined persecution, but there nothing wrong with her legs!

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Malfoy," she said sweetly. "And perhaps that's why we aren't getting anywhere selecting a new girl. I didn't think you were looking for a Rubens model for just Quidditch robes."

Amusement curved the corners of his mouth. "Wrong again. His nude photographs never really appealed to me. And if you are referring to yourself, I much prefer you the way you are." The gray eyes swept insolently over her slim body and Hermione felt as though she was blushing all over.

Her control snapped and to her horror, tears threatened. "Does it really make you that happy to keep reminding me?" she cried.

His face softened at her obvious distress. "Of what? That I saw your nude body and touched it? Why does that bother you so much?"

He walked around the desk toward her, big and male, and Hermione trembled, feeling his magnetism envelop her. She was hypnotized by the molten light in his gray eyes and she knew that when he touched her, she wouldn't resist. A small sigh escaped her parted lips and she swayed toward him as the door opened.

"I ordered lunch and we can go upstairs whenever you're ready," Janis said, her gaze narrowing as she took in the two silent figures standing so close together.

Hermione felt as though someone had just opened a window and she took a deep breath. "Thank you but I can't stay for lunch. I'll be back this afternoon."

Draco scowled. "You're having lunch," he told her flatly.

"I—I didn't know we could be running so late. I have a date."

"Break it!" he snapped, pushing a fountain pen and a paper in her direction. "You can use my owl any time at all."

Hermione stared at the paper.

"Janis, you can go up and tell them we'll be there in a minute." After dismissing the other girl who had been listening avidly, Draco turned impatiently to Hermione. "Well?"

It was useless to resist. When Draco wanted something, he was implacable. As he had always been. After writing her apologies to Ron, her reluctant gaze swung to Draco and caught his surprised look. It suddenly occurred to her that he thought she made up the date.

She turned to Draco after sending the owl on his way and said coolly, "I'm ready for lunch now."


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI **

Hermione half-expected that Draco would pre-empt her lunch hour again the next day, but he didn't. It wouldn't have mattered to her one way or another, she realized.

Ron was found at the middle part of the room, a table for two. As she watched him walked toward her, Hermione waited for a rush of emotion that didn't come. Instead, she had the feeling that this was someone she had seen in the movies or perhaps in the theatre. Someone she recognized but with whom there was no involvement. Ron didn't seem to feel the same way unless it was an act.

Seizing her hands eagerly, he gave her a light kiss on the cheek before she could respond. "You look more wonderful."

When they were seated at a table in the dining room, he looked over her carefully. "You're wearing your hair a new way. I like it." His eyes took in every detail of her appearance. "Wiltshire really agrees with you."

"You're looking well too," she returned politely. In truth, he hadn't changed much and probably never will. His boyish good looks would probably last into middle age.

They talked about Hogwarts, wizard and muggle London, old friends, acquaintances, carefully anything that might get too personal. After she had been brought up to date on the hometown scene, Ron asked her about Wiltshire and she started to tell about her work. It was all very friendly and relaxed, and Hermione was surprised to find that she was actually enjoying herself. Until a casual glance showed Draco entering the restaurant.

The first bitter thought crossed her mind was that he was spying on her, and then common sense prevailed. He had told her this was one of his favorite restaurants. It was her fault for coming here. A stupid child in attempt to prove something.

Hermione's hope that he wouldn't notice her was dashed as their eyes met across the room and an eyebrow raised mockingly. She was also pretty sure that he recognized that tall redhead who has his back toward him. Would he be content with that small greeting? She knew somehow he wouldn't.

Ron was saying something to her and he covered her hand with his, but Hermione's attention was with Draco—he was walking toward their table. She glanced back at Ron and before she knew it, Draco was standing by their table. Something flashed in his eyes when his gaze landed on their clasped hands. "What a nice surprise running into you here, Hermione. Oh, was he your date that you have so unfortunately have to cancel yesterday for, because of me? In that case, I apologize," he drawled.

"Malfoy?" Ron jumped to his feet.

"Weasley." He nodded his head curtly. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

Ron smiled at him. Suck up, Hermione thought wryly. M.Q.S., was currently endorsing with Chuddley Cannons, Puddlemere United, and the Harpies. "Would you like to join us?" Ron suddenly asked.

"You don't know what yo're saying!" Hermione flushed under Draco's mocking gaze. "Well, w-what I meant was, I'm sure Draco has other engagements to attend to."

Draco smiled broadly and pulled out a chair. "Unfortunately, I do. But I can spare enough time for one drink with you." A waiter appeared at his beckoning hand, and after giving his order, Draco leaned back and surveyed Ron with interest. "I hope it didn't inconvenience you too greatly that I kept Hermione yesterday."

"Not at all. I didn't know Hermione was working for you. Why didn't you tell me, Herms?" Ron gazed at her fondly while she seethed with impotent fury. At that moment, she didn't know which of the men she hated the most.

"I didn't think it was important who I work for, Ron."

"I never thought that someday you would be working for Malfoy."

"I, too, am wondering myself." Draco covered her hand where it lay on her lap and when she tried to withdraw, his strong fingers held hers prisoner. "I'm getting to know Hermione better," he told Ron. "I like to feel close to all my employees, don't I, Hermione?"

"Yes, you're noted for it," she answered sweetly, although you could clearly see annoyance in her eyes.

Draco laughed as if she said something funny and Ron looked at her with a weary expression. "You're friends with him?"

Before Hermione could respond, Draco answered for her, "Why yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Oh, no," Ron assured him. "Whoever Hermione is friends with, I have no say. Even if it is you. We divorced a few years ago." Hermione looked at his earnest face with distaste. Ron wouldn't change. He would never change. Hermione should have told him to keep quiet about the divorce!

"I'm sure Draco isn't really interested in my personal relationship with you. So do you mind?" Hermione said irritably. Then she looked pointedly at Draco's empty glass. "I can't tell you how I've enjoyed this quick little chat but don't you have people waiting for you?"

Draco released her hand reluctantly. "You're right, of course." His expression was impenetrable as he looked at her for a long moment. "I'll see you later in my office."

The waiter appeared with the check, thinking they were all leaving, and Draco took it and signed his name.

"Hey, that's my check," Ron protested.

Draco handed the pen back to the waiter. "Some other time, maybe you can return the favor." He unwound his long frame and smiled at Hermione and walked away.

Hermione watched his broad well-tailored shoulders with mixed emotions. The tension drained out of her body but it was replaced with a let down feeling. Was she crazy? Being with Draco was like being in the eye of a hurricane, so why did she feel suddenly bereft now that he was gone?

"He really seems to think a lot of you." There was suppressed annoyance in Ron's voice. "I had no idea you're working for, Malfoy! I would really think it was the other way around."

"Well, yes. Sorry to cut this short, but I have to get back to work," she said flatly.

Hermione put on her coat and Ron said, "When am I going to see you again?" He gave her a boyish grin. "Is tonight too soon?"

"I thought you were tied up with business or something."

"For you, I'll get out of it. It's been too long since I've last seen you." His hands on her arms moved caressingly, Hermione suddenly felt distaste.

"No, I'm busy tonight, Ron. I'll owl you later in the week if I have any free time." It was only a courtesy. Hermione had lain his ghost to rest. She didn't want to see him again.

Ron sent an owl so often the next couple of days that Hermione finally ignored his owls. It was a relief to discover that he meant nothing to her, that that part of her life was over. Now, if she could only get Draco Malfoy off her mind, everything would be lovely.

It was only natural that she thought about him so much, Hermione assured herself. After all, he was M.Q.S. and that's what she was concentrated and working on. But it was maddening to see his charismatic face imposed on her copy when ever in her imagination, his smile was taunting.

It was a particularly nasty morning when John burst into her office. Cold sleet was rattling the windows as the weather vacillated between rain and snow. It was a depressing kind of day but John was wearing a big grin.

"Guess what day this is?" And without waiting for her to answer, "It's Christmas!"

"What? Did we skip right over other holidays this year?" she asked dryly.

"No, but we're getting an early Christmas present!"

"Have you been drinking all morning?"

He refused to take offense. "I haven't but it would be justified. Wait until you hear the news. You and I are going to the Virgin Islans! Draco is on his yacht and he wants us to give him a progress report!"

"A yacht? Draco Malfoy has a yacht?"

John waved that aside impatiently. "Just be grateful and get packed. We leave first thing in the morning!" John announced cheerfully.

Hermione was strangely reluctant, although the thought of seeing Draco again set up strange stirrings in her body. "I think one of us should stay here and watch the office," she said slowly. "You don't really need me."

"He specifically said to bring you." John looked at apprehensively. "You don't have something going on do you?"

"Of course not!"

"Okay, okay, don't get too worked up about it. It's none of my business anyway. But you don't have a choice, Hermione. We don't disappoint clients, especially Malfoy. When he is displeased, strong me tremble." And women too, Hermione thought wryly.

She was just closing her suitcase the next morning when an owl tapped its beak on the glass pane of her window. It was from John Warren.

_Hermione, I have bad news for you, only its worse for me. I wretched my back carrying a table for my wife. I can't even straighten up. You'll have to carry the ball without me. I'm sorry. Just have fun. _

_~ John _

She gasped. She can't go without him. She wrote a quick reply. _John, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you get well soon. But I won't go without you. I'm sure Draco will understand._

A few minutes later, her fireplace glowed and John's pained expression appeared in front of her. "Hermione, you'll do nothing of the sort and argue with me," he grated. Pain was making him testy. "I can't stand here all day discussing it. The healer said I'll be alright in a week. Just get yourself on that yacht and keep me informed." He cut the connection abruptly.

Hermione stared at the fireplace in rising panic, but there was nothing to do but apparate to her destination. But…an idea struck her. Yes, she'll just make the report and leave before the ship sails. And she will do exactly like that.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII **

Hermione appeared in front of _Celeste_. The air was like a soft caress on her skin after Wiltshire's winter chill and Hermione breathed deeply. It was a very long time ago since she had the chance to go on a vacation. _Celeste _was more of a luxury ship than a yacht. The gleaming white ship rode proudly at anchor, her woodwork polished until it shone like satin.

It appeared deserted but a man appeared in white uniform and he greeted her with a smile. "Hello there, little lady. I'm Paul Krasnik. We sail in an hour, and who you might be?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she responded with a small smile.

"Welcome aboard, Ms. Granger!"

Another man appeared in uniform, but a different kind. He took Hermione's luggage. "Will you put it down for a minute? I'm afraid, I'm not going anywhere. I just came down to make a report to Mr. Malfoy."

The man frowned. "I don't understand. But if you would like, I can take you to his cabin if you like. I don't do anything unless he gave me orders."

Hermione's heart was beating fast as she followed the straight figure below deck and down a plush carpeted corridor. What else could go wrong? First John's defection and then her plan not working. When a deep male voice answered the captain's knock, her heart threatened to stop beating entirely.

Draco opened the door dressed only in a brief pair of black swimming trunks, an emerald green towel slung around his neck. His lean torso was slightly tanned and powerful muscles rippled over his shoulders as he extended a welcoming hand. (Drool much? Lol)

"Hermione, it's good to see you. Come in." A slight tug pulled her into the room when she stood reluctantly on the threshold. She looked around with interest in spite of herself. The cabin was much bigger than she would have expected, although her knowledge of yachts was non-existent. For one, it had a large bend instead of bunks and there was room for two comfortable chairs and several tables. Thick cocoa-colored carpeting covered the floor, and through an open door a luxurious bathroom could be seen. There were even windows instead of little port holes. Only the best for a Malfoy! She thought.

Draco watched her face with amusement. "You expected it here to have bunk beds, huh?"

"I didn't even expect to be here."

He inspected her critically. "It's what you need. A few days in the sun will do wonders for you. You're as pale as a little Dresden doll."

"A few days!" Hermione was aghast. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I just came down to give you figures and progress of the report. Oh—I forgot to tell you about John." After she had explained and Draco expressed polite regret, she said, "Maybe you could take a quick look at the figures now in case there is anything you want to tell me before I go back to Wiltshire."

"We can discuss it on the way to the Virgin Islands instead."

"But I've just told you! I will come back to the office."

He was standing so close that Hermione could see the tiny droplets of moisture from his shower on his bare chest. The scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils. Everything about him was dominatingly masculine. "The only think you have to do is what I tell you. How many times do I have to remind you that you're working for me?" he demanded arrogantly.

She faced him defiantly, obscurely angry because her body was starting to feel deliciously languorous. "That's what I'm trying to do. But how can I when I'm goofing off somewhere in the islands?"

His frown faded and he studied her face intently. "You're a strange woman, Hermione. Most people would jump at the chance of a vacation. Don't you know how to enjoy yourself—or is it something else?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do." When she took an involuntary step backward, his hands circled her wrists, drawing her slowly closer, and then sliding sensuously up her arms. "Are you afraid you inhibitions will melt in the warm sun and you might be tempted to do what you really want to do with me?"

"That is too absurd to require an answer," she told him, trying to control the tremor in her voice. "I'm no more afraid to be alone with you here than I am in Wiltshire." If only that man didn't take her suitcase. She could have easily escaped this man.

White teeth gleamed as he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, so that's it. You thought the big bad wolf had schemed to get you alone on the seas. Well, calm your feathers, little bird, Pansy and Theodore are aboard. Along with Blaise and a nubile lady named Adelaide."

Hermione's relief was mirrored in her expressive eyes and Draco chuckled again. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the door. "Your cabin is right next to mine. After you get settled, put on your bathing suit and come upstairs." He ran a finger lightly down her tilted nose.

Hermione's cabin wasn't as large as Draco's but it was almost as luxurious, and fitted with every comfort even a pampered guest could wish for. The bed had pale peach velvet spread and there was a small dressing table that was separated from the beautiful bathroom. She opened her suitcase and stared at her wand. Should she leave now? But if she did, what Draco had said, will be considered a fact. Setting aside her wand, she began to put away her few things.

The motors started to throb and the dock began to recede. Hermione watched for a while with undeniable excitement. What was she worried about after all? Draco was right. She ought to learn to enjoy herself. The strip of water had widened considerably before she could tear herself away from the enchanting view. With a last look over her shoulder, she slipped hurriedly into a red bikini and donned a short matching cover-up.

Draco and Blaise were playing chess at the table, while Theodore was entertaining Pansy and another. A dark-haired woman who was wearing the skimpiest string bikini Hermione had ever seen. She was working for an advertising agency, and that was saying a lot as she had already gone through portfolios of different models all over Europe, muggle and wizard. A steward in a white jacket was dispensing screw drivers and everyone looked tanned and relaxed.

Pansy saw her first and jumped up with a surprisingly warm greeting and was soon echoed by the men. She was introduced to the dark-haired girl who was pleasant enough but Hermione soon discovered she wasn't much interest in women. Her attentions were divided equally among the men and it wasn't quite clear whether she was with Blaise or Draco.

"Have a drink, Hermione," Theodore said, pressing a glass in her hand. "Take off your dress and stay awhile."

"I'm almost ashamed to. You're all so nice and tanned." But she started to unbutton her cover-up consciously.

"Don't worry," Draco said, taking the garment and tossing it over a chair, "After a few days in the sun, you'll be able to model for a suntan lotion ad."

At the word "model", she looked up apprehensively. Was that a subtle reminder of the hostilities between them? The opening gun in a new round? But Draco was smiling, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her slender figure. Hermione felt warmth that had nothing to do with the sun, but at the same time, she felt shy with this man who knew her body so intimately.

"When is lunch? Draco, I'm starved," Pansy called.

It was fifteen minutes later when the man who took her luggage appeared and started setting up a folding table. Linen was spread and then a sumptuous feast appeared, and everyone helped themselves buffet style. The food was varied and delicious. There was cold seafood and salads of every description. A silver chafing dish kept a spicy Creole hot and there were rolls, muffins and crusty Cuban bread. Hermione discovered that she was famished, having been up since six o'clock that morning with only two cups of coffee to sustain her.

Draco watched with satisfaction as she wolfed down her lunch. "That's the first time I've ever seen you eat a lot more than sandwiches. Maybe I'll put a few ounces on you yet."

"I'll take her the way she is," Theodore said, but the compliment was spoiled by the leering quality in his voice.

"No one asked your opinion. You'll keep your hands off her if you know what's good for you." Draco was smiling as though it was just a casual banter, but his eyes were gray chips of ice.

Theodore was quick to sense Draco's displeasure and changed his tone. "Would I strain the bonds of the long time friendship?" he asked reproachfully.

"Not while you played with him yet, which Draco has gotten tired of," Blaise drawled.

"Well, if it isn't the stalwart protector of the Malfoy fortune to the rescue," Theodore sneered. "You sure make it hard for a guy to male a living."

"Have you ever tried working besides flying on brooms?" Blaise asked grimly.

"Why should I when I have so many good…friends," his mocking glance flicked toward Pansy, "to subsidize me."

A muscle started to twitch dangerously in Blaise's cheek and Hermione moved restlessly. Nothing had changed. She wondered how they could bear to go on with this charade.

Sensing her discomfort, Draco put his hands under her elbows and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the ship."

She followed him gratefully, but her mind was still on the ugly scene they had just escaped. "Does she…does Pansy…support Theodore?"

Draco took her hand and tucked it firmly under his arm. "My mother taught me long ago that you never ask a question to which you don't really want to know the answer."

He was smirking but there was a grim set to his mouth that told her the despicable truth. Her first impression of Theodore didn't begin to cover it! But how could Draco stand to have him around? The answer to that was obvious—because of his genuine affection for Pansy.

Draco looked at her troubled face and said dryly, "Don't worry about it. Pansy will land on her feet. Just remember, we all do what we want to do in this life." A mocking eyebrow lifted and he added, "Or maybe I should say _most _of us do."

She tried to draw away but Draco tightened his grip. Unable to meet his eyes, she looked out over the ocean and was rewarded with an enchanting sight. A school of flying fish like miniature airplanes broke the surface of the water and soared through the air before diving into the sea once more.

Hermione gripped Draco's forearm with her free hand and then pointed, "Look! Aren't they adorable?"

They leaned on the teakwood railing and looked out over the glittering expanse of water. Its dark blue smiling surface stretched all the way to the horizon where it blended with the lighter blue of the sky. The sun reflecting off the water was dazzling and as they watched, another school of the silvery little fish broke the dappled surface in a kind of choreographed formation, trailing a shower of diamond droplets in their wake like tiny shooting stars.

Unknown to Hermione, Draco was watching her with admiration in his eyes as she looked eagerly at the school of fish swimming by. He could not stop himself as he turned her to face him and his hands were warm on her bare shoulders. He pulled her gently toward him and she could smell the salty tang of his skin. He smelled of sea and sunshine, and a subtle male aroma. His body was like a sculpted torso of some magnificent Greek god.

A quiver of remembrance turned her weak. It would be so easy to give in to the wild yearning to be in his arms. She hesitated for a moment, and then a sudden change in the rhythm of the engines brought her to her sense. "You…uh—you said you were going to show me around the ship."

"So, I did." Tiny pinpoints of light danced in his eyes. "Would you like to start with my cabin?" he invited huskily.

"I have already seen that," she reminded him, mobbing to a safe distance where she could breathe normally once more.

"I hope next time, you'll stay longer—much longer," Draco teased, but he followed her along the deck to the prow of the ship.

They were cutting through the water at a fast clip. The ocean parted before this alien intruder, impotently churning up boiling streaks of pure white foam that dissipated into long ripples astern as they went their imperious way. The wind was whipping Hermione's long hair around her face and Draco brushed it away with a gentle hand.

"Too windy for you here?" he asked.

"No, I love it," Hermione said but shivered slightly in the bikini. She could still feel the sun but no its warmth.

He put an arm around her, guiding her toward the double doors that led to the saloon, a large windowed room fitted with couches and comfortable chairs. "We'll do the inside tour now."

Hermione looked around with admiration. If it weren't for the sight of water all around, this could have been the plush living room of a luxury home. There were even paintings on the paneled walls and a small spinet piano in one corner with a bowl of fresh flowers on its narrow top. It was obviously charmed to never die out.

From there, Draco led her to the dining saloon and the feeling of being in a spacious house was repeated. The heave, carved table and long teakwood buffet were bolted to the floor, the only concession given to ship-board living, but the fact wasn't evident. The tall backed chairs were upholstered in maroon and silver satin and a large crystal chandelier swayed every so slightly with the motion of the yacht.

Draco took her hand and led her to the companion-way. Hermione held back slightly, knowing the lower deck was given over to the sleeping cabins. "Where—where are we going now?"

"You're going to take a nap," he said

"Oh no, I'm not really tired."

"If I know you, which I do—you've been up very early this morning and I want you to rest," he told her firmly.

"But I don't want to miss anything!" she protested. "And besides, I'm used to waking up early and sleeping late."

He ignored that and opened the door of her cabin and pushed her gently inside, closing the door after them. Taking her face in his palms, he kissed her lightly on the lips. "I won't let you miss a thing."

She started to tremble but he walked over to the closet and took out a thin silk robe. With it over his arm, he pulled back the peach velvet spread. "W-what the hell do you think you are doing?" she quavered.

Draco's hand went to the tie of her bikini top where it peeped out from under her tumbled hair. "You'll be much more comfortable in this robe."

"Stop!" He grinned at her shocked face while she mustered what dignity she could. "I know how to undress myself!"

His grin broadened. "I know, but it would be much more fun fore us if I did it."

"Will you please leave?" she glared.

"Not until I see you get into bed, miss independent." His folded arms and air of waiting patience told her he meant it and Hermione sighed and reached for the robe. "Should I turn around?" he asked.

"No." When he raised his eyebrows, she said, "I'll go change in the bathroom!"

He was still waiting when she came out and she pulled her belt tighter. "There, are you satisfied?" she asked mutinously, nervously aware of his admiring eyes following the flowing line of her curves through the thin fabric.

For an answer, he drew back the stop sheet and looked at her pointedly. She had no choice but to get into bed and he started to cover her, she snatched the sheet out of his hand and pulled it up to her chin.

The room was quiveringly silent for a moment and then Draco smoothed for her hair caressingly. Then his hand drifted to her cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. He kissed her lightly on the mouth and said, "Go to sleep, Hermione." Then he left the room and closed the door with a soft click.

How much more of this could she take before giving in to her own fierce desire? He was a devil who knew her every weakness and she was no match for him. Gradually, the sleep she had thought would never come enveloped her and Hermione slept like an innocent child, although her dreams were haunted by a certain blond-haired ex-Slytherin.

A/N: I had help with the descriptions, so I don't think I deserve much credit. Well actually, I researched some stuff on and then I described them. Honestly, I thought I exaggerated the bit. Was it too much, the yacht I mean?


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII **

Hermione awoke much alter with a feeling that something was missing. Then it came to her that the engines had been turned off. Jumping out of bed and hurrying to the window, she saw that they were anchored off an island. Green coconut palms fringed wide golden sands and people in gaily colored shorts and sundresses walked along a pier that stretched like a ruler on top of the blue water. Other yachts were moored nearby, swaying and bowing to each other with each lap of the placid sea.

They landed at Green Turtle Bay while she had been asleep. She ran into the bathroom and splashed water on her sleep flushed cheeks and then hastily pulled on a pair of white shorts and a red blouse. After racing lightly up the stars, she was dismayed to fin the stern area deserted. Had everyone gone ashore without her? Voices on the deck below drew her attention and she saw Draco talking to Paul Krasnik.

"Hey sleepyhead," he hailed her. "I thought you were going to sleep straight until tomorrow."

She felt a momentary embarrassment when he climbed up to meet her and she had trouble looking at him, but his cheerful manner put her at ease. "You should have woken me up."

"I didn't have the heart. You were sleeping like a baby." He hooked his hand around her neck. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." She moved away from his disquieting touch. "Where are the others?"

"They went ashore."

"Have I kept you? I'm sorry. You should have gone with them."

"I didn't mind. Would you like to go sightseeing now?"

"Yes! Could we?"

He smiled at her eagerness. "The launch is waiting."

She couldn't help blushing but he merely laughed and helped her into the motor boat that was bobbing alongside. Powerful muscles rippled over his back and shoulders as she untied the painter. Tossing it to a waiting seaman, he fired the engines.

"Are you going to pilot the boat?" she asked in surprise.

"Sure. I've been doing this for a couple of years. You need not to worry. You're perfectly safe. I had a lot of practice." He gave her a smile of reassurance. The small boat surged through the water and in a matter of minutes, they were at the dock. Draco led her past the beach toward the small town that beckoned but they didn't get very far.

They wandered into town and Hermione exclaimed over the quaint little shops and the air of cleanliness that prevailed. Hermione was very sorry when the tour ended. She had really enjoyed herself with Draco. He even promised to bring her back next time. Hermione was thanking him about how she enjoyed the tour when they heard their names called.

"Draco! Hermione! Over here."

They turned in the direction of the sound and found Pansy and Blaise sitting in the recesses of an open front bar.

"Come, join us," Blaise invited. "Nott and Adelaide will be here in a minute. They're next door buying more sun tan lotion."

"Where have you two been?" Pansy asked.

"I've been showing Hermione around the island," Draco said. "She's never been here before."

"It's a little gem, isn't it?" Pansy commented.

Before Hermione had a chance to agree with her, the other couple returned and Theodore said, "You're just in time. The sun is about over the yardarm and the drinking flag is out on the Blue Dolphin."

Noticing her puzzled look, Draco explained, "All those colored flags strung on the ships mean something."

"I thought they were just decorations," she smiled.

"No, each one conveys a message. A solid blue flag means the owner isn't on board, and a red flag with a white diagonal strip tells other boats to stay away because there is a diver below."

While Hermione was digesting this information, Theodore said, "The only one I'm interested in is the white flag with the little martini glass on it. That mean its cocktail time," he explained unnecessarily.

"Don and Pat Pinkerton own the Blue Dolphin," Pansy told Hermione. "You'll like them but I can't say the same for that bunch of free loads they attract."

"I think they're a fun crowd," Adelaide said, standing up and ostentatiously smoothing the skin tight pants over her voluptuous hips to call attention to them. "You're too picky."

"Selective is a better word," Pansy sniffed.

"I vote with Addie," Theodore said, linking arms with her. "Try not to be a drag tonight, Pansy."

Hermione was afraid that sooner or later Blaise was going to kill the living daylights out of Theodore Nott. Not that she minded though, it wasn't her business anyway. But then the moment of unpleasantness passed and they all wandered down to the landing.

Hermione admired the stunning sunset as they got into the waiting launch. They sky was streaked with slashes of color—pink, lavender and soft peach. As though an artist was trying out different hue with a broad brush before starting to paint a picture around the molten balls of fire that was sizzling into the sea.

There was already a crowd of people aboard the Blue Dolphin, a stately yacht only slightly smaller than Draco's. A white-coated bartender was dispensing drinks at top speed and loud background music added to the din of many voices. Hermione was introduced to the people nearest her and a glass was thrust into her hand. After that, the others dispersed and she was left alone with Draco until a tall smiling woman approached and was introduced as the hostess.

Hermione decided she liked Pat Pinkerton, as she found they had a lot to talk about. While they were chatting, someone hailed Draco from across the room and he moved away. When another guest claimed Pat's attention, Hermione found her alone—but nor for long. A rather good-looking fellow with sandy brown hair and blue eyes slipped his arm around her waist.

"I'm not actually," she said with a fixed smile, trying to move away from his unwelcome embrace. She could have hexed his annoying behind into next week, but unfortunately was untouched in her suitcase and there were muggles all around. "I'm here with a group of people."

"If they don't know any better than to desert you, then it's their tough luck. Finders keeps, I always say." His hand moved insinuatingly under her shirt and started to caress her lower back.

"Please don't do that!" she said sharply, and successfully moved within an arm's length.

"Oh, come on, baby, I just want to be friendly." He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to his chest.

Sudden;y, a firm hand pushed the man away and Hermione was drawn back against a hard male body. "Sorry there, buddy, but she's mine," Draco sneered and his eyes were dangerous.

With his arm still around her, he guided her to the other side of the room. "Did you have to say that?" she cried angrily.

His faced hardened. "I'm sorry I didn't realize that you were enjoying being mauled."

"I wasn't!" she replied hotly. "But you gave him the impression the you—that I—"

"Grow up, will you, Hermione?" he said contemptuously.

The remark stung and she faced him furiously. "I _am_ grown up and I resent you for treating me like a child! I can take care of myself. I always have and always will!"

His face darkened with anger and his eyes were gray thunderbolts. "It will be interesting to see how you fare with this crowd."

He stalked off, leaving her standing alone and after a moment, Hermione went to join the group Pansy was with, still smarting under Draco's scorn. The conversation was trivial and the gossip was meaningless to her. Across the room, she saw Draco talking to a tall blonde. She had both arms playfully wrapped around his neck and was leaning back from the waist with her face tilted up provocatively.

He was laughing indulgently at whatever she was saying and Hermione felt a white hot flash of jealousy stab through her. It was followed by a chilling thought. Why did it make any difference to her who Draco flirted with? Was it possible that she was starting to care for him? No! The idea was ludicrous.

The room was crowded and Hermione was starting to get a headache. She walked out onto the deck to get a breath of air and was hailed almost immediately by Theodore and Adelaide.

"We're going over to the Sea Worthy for a drink. Do you want to come along?"

What Hermione wanted was to go back to Draco's own yacht but she was too proud to approach Draco with the request. He might even refuse. Or worse yet, bring the blonde back with him. At least Theodore's invitation would get her off this hateful ship.

"I'd love to," she told Theodore, "would you like me to go in and get Pansy?"

"Don't bother, the ever faithful Zabini will bring her," he said negligently.

Her dislike of this man rose sharply. "You aren't exactly attentive. Aren't you afraid she will turn to Blaise permanently?"

"No way," Theodore returned smugly. "I'm always there when she really wants me, if you know what I mean.

Disgust rose in her throat like a lump but before she could tell him what she thought of him, Adelaide said, "Are we going or aren't we?"

Before Hermione could have a chance to refuse, Theodore took her arm and hustled her down the gangplank.

The party on the Sea Worth was a duplicate of the one they had just left except that it wasn't quite as crowded and at least there was food. But the disadvantage was the she didn't know a soul except the couple she had come with and they were no help.

Adelaide had made it clear from the start that Hermione was an unwelcome intrusion and Theodore disappeared as soon as they got there. With a sigh, she refused a drink from a convivial stranger and inched her way to the table. She was hungry and after she had eaten, maybe some way of getting back to the Celeste would present itself.

As she was finishing the last bite of a sandwich, a distinguished-looking man with black hair appeared. He was dressed in a navy blue yachting jacket and looked tanned and fit.

"I don't think we've met," he said politely. "I'm Adam Ryan." Hermione supplied her name and he eyed her with interest. "Your name rings a bell," he murmured. "But I don't believe we haven't seen you before."

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't really belong here. I don't even know whose yacht this is."

He smiled. "That really doesn't matter. I'm sure a beautiful lady like you would be welcome to any place."

"I'm honestly not accustomed to crashing parties," she told him earnestly. "In fact, I have no interest in parties whatsoever."

There was twinkle in his eye as he nodded in understanding. "Suppose you tell me how you got here."

"It's a long story," she sighed again. "To make it short, I was having a bad time and I've been dragged up here."

"The twinkle broadened into a smile. "I know what you mean but they are a necessary evil of modern civilized night life. It satisfies the primitive instinct to huddle together for protection."

Hermione shook her head. "I would rather curl up in a comfortable couch in front of a fire, hot chocolate and a good book."

Something flickered in his eyes and was gone immediately. Before he could answer, they were joined by Theodore. "I see you've met our host," he said.

She looked at the man in horror and he laughed. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart, most of the people here feel exactly as you do. It just hasn't occurred to them yet."

"What's going on?" Theodore asked.

"She and I are having a private conversation. Why don't you go have another drink?" When Theodore had gone, the host turned to her and said, "Why don't we go somewhere quiet to talk?"

Hermione reluctantly agreed, because her head started to throb from the loud noise around the yacht. He took her elbow and guided her out onto the deck which was only relatively quiet. From her he led her down a short flight of steps to the lower deck and to a room with looked like a lounge room.

"Sit down," he offered, indicating the leather couch. "At least we don't have to shout to be heard."

Hermione relaxed against the sofa cushions and drew her legs under her. This was nice. It was a relief to be with this courtly man after some of the lechers she had encountered tonight. They talked and he turned out to be well informed on a variety of subjects. But gradually the tenor of the conversation changed to a personal level. His comments were slightly insinuating and his eyes rested on her body more often than her face.

Hermione began to feel uneasy and she shifted self-consciously. Standing up, she said, "I'm afraid I've been monopolizing the host. I guess we'd better go back."

He stood also, but only to come closer to her. Taking her in his arms, he murmured, "There is no hurry, sweetheart…"

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening again! Putting her hands against his chest to push him off her, she said nervously, "Please, don't touch me…" His eager mouth stopped her words and she thought she was going to be sick. She pushed him off her roughly and ran for the door.

Before she reached the door, it flung open and Draco Malfoy strode in, very furious. His eyes flew from her to the other man, smiling in a creepy at Hermione. He hustled Hermione out of the room and up the stairs. "Draco, I—"

"Shut up!" he snapped, his face blank with fury.

Hermione did as she was told, although she had to bite her lip from crying out in pain. His fingers clutched her arm in such an iron grip that she think they would leave bruises.

He practically threw her into the waiting launch and started the motor so savagely that the gears screamed in protest. Draco didn't utter a word or a glace in her direction. Why should he be so angry at her?

As soon as Draco tied up the litte craft, Hermione started up the rope ladder but a breeze had come up, making it difficult. The motorboat bobbed up and down in the swell and the ladder sway alarmingly. Draco's hands came out to guide her but she shook them off.

"I can take it by myself. I don't need you," she said petulantly.

In an instant, he was in back of her, almost carrying her up the slippery steps. As soon as her feet touched the deck, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "What the bloody hell were doing in Sea Worthy? And with that sick bastard?" he rasped.

She brushed the hair out of her eyes and faced him with flushed cheeks. "You brute, don't you curse at me! If you must know, Theodore and Adelaide invited me."

He advanced toward her with glittering eyes. "If I had come in later, I couldn't even think—he eats ladies like you for breakfast!"

"It's your fault!" At his incredulous look, she muttered, "They're your friends. And besides...you were too busy with—with other people to even care where I went."

A smile threatened to break through his frown at the mention of the 'other people' he was with and then his face hardened again. "Firstly, Ryan is _no _friend of mine, and neither are three-quarters of the people at those parties! I wouldn't have let you within a mile of that wretched yacht of his. Second, I'm going to break Nott's neck for taking you there."

"He seemed so nice and he was so polite and everything."

"Oh yes, he's very smooth. Appearances can be deceiving."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" was her aggrieved comment.

"Because you can take care of yourself," he said derisively. "You always have and you always will."

She stuck out her chin proudly. "That's right!"

"Whatever…just go to bed, Hermione," he said curtly.

She sat by the window in her stateroom for a long time, looking out at the magical night. There was no moon but the black velvet sky was lit by a million stars burning brightly like tiny flames. The sea was on fire also. Tiny wavelets edged with glowing phosphorous shimmered and then changed shape in the restless ocean.

Hermione thought about Draco. Even when he was shaking her almost senseless, the feel of his hands were electric. And it's not just that, no other man had the power to stir her in that way so maybe the attraction she felt for him wasn't purely sexual. It's also the little things he had done for her. He was just being too sweet that she was falling for him. But loving him could only spell heartbreak because he didn't love her in return.

Never give your heart, she warned herself long ago. But she _had _given it. Completely and totally to man who didn't it. He was only interested in her body and after he had it, he wouldn't even want that. Hermione knew she could never face rejection from Draco so there wasn't anything to do except conceal her genuine feelings and hope someday to get over it.

No more mistakes…she keeps warning herself.

With a deep sigh, she got into bed.


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX **

The sun was beckoning even through the close drapes when Hermione awoke the next morning. She drew them back and looked out the window at another perfect day.

After getting dressed, she went upstairs but there was no one in the outside lounge. The dining saloon was equally deserted but there was breakfast laid out on the buffet. Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and took a wedge of melon, passing up the cold cereal and selection of breads and rolls. She didn't even lift the covers to see what was in the big silver chafing dishes.

The silence was broken only by raucous cries of sea birds and rhythmic creak of the ship as it rode at anchor. Was everyone else still sleeping? Somehow she couldn't imagine Draco staying in bed until noon.

Draco.

Her troubled thoughts swung to the man who had scarcely been out of her thoughts, even her dreams. What would be his mood this morning? He was just too confusing. Hermione shrank from finding out but had to be faced sooner or later. She pushed her half-empty coffee cup aside and went on deck, gravitating toward the prow where voices could be heard.

Draco and Blaise were there, sitting on the part of the deck given over to running the ship. Thick brown ropes were mostly wound around bulkheads but some were lying on the deck like loosely coiled giant snakes. The two men were sitting cross-legged, their heads bent over what looked like a tangle of fishing lines

Hermione paused, her eyes on Draco and a lump rose in her throat. He looked so handsome and remote. The sun was shining on his glistening back and she could see the pattern of muscles under the smooth skin. The boxer brief trunks revealed powerful thighs which were emphasized by his swami position. A lock of blond hair fell over his forehead and he looked like he was scowling in concentration.

Blaise was first to notice her. "Hi, Hermione, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," she lied. She heard a growl from Draco and she shifted uneasily.

"Sit down and join us." Blaise patted the varnished boards.

Hermione lowered herself to the smooth deck, feeling its warmth through her jeans. "Where are the others?" she asked.

"The girls never get up before noon," Blaise said indulgently, "and I suppose Nott is sacked out too."

"It seems a shame to waste this beautiful day," she offered tentatively.

"Umm," Blaise murmured thoughtfully while Draco didn't even bother to look up.

She could see they were absorbed in their task and while Blaise at least tried to be polite, Draco made no secret of the fact that she was being a nuisance. There was no need to wonder any longer about his mood—he was still furious with her about going to Sea Worthy. Well, if that's the way he wanted it, she would try to keep out of his way,

Hermione stood up quietly but as she turned to leave, Draco's voice stopped her. "Where are you going?"

"I—I don't know."

She was pinned to the spot by his dark look. "Would you like to go swimming?" he asked unexpectedly. She nodded her head slowly. She had been longing to swim in that crystal clear water since they had arrived here. "Go below and get your bathing suit on."

Hermione was a good swimmer but she looked doubtfully over the railing. It was a long way down and looked dangerously deep.

Seeing her expression, Blaise laughed. "Don't worry. Draco might be—well, Draco, but he isn't going to throw you overboard. There are beaches all around the island."

Relief surged through her. In his present mood, she believed Draco was capable of anything. "Are you coming too?" she asked Blaise hopefully.

He shook his head. "I'll wait for the others." Hermione knew he meant Pansy and he was sad for him.

Draco was waiting when she returned, a large wicker hamper at his feet. He made no attempt to help her into the launch, merely watching with a cynical smile as she almost missed her foot and she had to clutch awkwardly at the ropes.

Anger lit fire sparks in her eyes. Obviously he was still annoyed about last night if he hadn't wanted to take her swimming then, why did he suggested it? "Are you going to be horrid to me all day?" she demanded.

He looked at her coolly. "I might be. What do you propose to do about it?"

She lifted her chin in the air. "I'd like you to drop me off at the nearest beach and come back for me later. You don't even have to come back," she added recklessly. "I'll find my own way."

"I'm sure of it," he sneered. "As long as there are men who will try to molest you, just be sure which you land on."

Indignation almost choked her but she swung around to face him squarely. "Listen to me, Draco Malfoy! It's a beautiful day and I have been looking forward to swimming since I got here. I refuse to let you spoil it for me so you can just dump me off as soon as possible and go on your not so merry way!" She knew she could be quite scary when she was angry. Heck, her best friends back away when she was at her worst.

An unwilling smile curved his firm lips. "Okay, you win, Hermione. We'll let bygones be bygones." He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Just see that you behave yourself from now on."

Hermione was only pleased at his abrupt change of mood to take offense. She relaxed against the white leather seat and watched the shoreline flash by. They passed a number of inviting beaches but Draco showed no signs of stopping.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "Some place special?"

"Very special." He smiled. "Not so many people know about it and those who do are muggles. It's only accessible by boat. It's a beautiful beach but it's surrounded by cliffs and guarded on the ocean side by a long coral reef," he explained. "There is a narrow opening but it's tricky by boat."

"It sounds dangerous…" she murmured.

"Don't worry, you're safe with me, remember?"

She relaxed visibly against the seat and watched as he gunned the motor and the small craft surged forward like an eager anime on a too flimsy leach. They lifted high in the air as the whole boat shuddered as though shaken by a giant hand. The boat landed heavily on the water and salt spray dampened her face. Draco eased the throttle back and Hermione turned around to watch the furious maelstrom they had left behind.

Draco's gentle hand directed her gaze toward shore and Hermione gave a cry of delight. It was a scene of such untouched beauty that it almost brought tears to her eyes. A small crescent shaped beach with white powdery san was nestled in the curve of the cliffs, protected from the wind but smiled on by the sun. Several small star fish dotted the beach like little baby hands and the calm sapphire water of the lagoon curled its hem of white ermine along the shoreline. It was indeed, somewhere special.

Draco nosed the boat in for a gentle landing and they waded to shore with Draco carrying the wicker basket and Hermione the beach towels. He helped her spread out the large towels and then flopped down on one contentedly. "Aren't we going swimming?" she demanded.

"You make if you like. I'm going to relax for a while. I've been swabbing decks all morning while you've been getting your beauty sleep." At her disbelieving stare, he said, "Don't look so skeptical, it's true."

"But you have all kinds of help to do that."

"Sure, but I like to do it myself on occasion. It's a good exercise." She looked at him with renewed respect and he threw a small handful of sand at her legs. "Go on in, that's what you're dying to do. I'll join you in a few minutes."

Hermione decided to take Draco's advice. The blue lagoon was beckoning with a siren's smile and she plunged in eagerly. The water was so crystal clear that she could see all the way to the bottom and she was peering down, a school of tropical fish swam by.

In a delighted effort to join them, she surface dived but they scattered in alarm. She held her breath and glided along with little movement as possible and soon other schools surrounded her. Hermione stayed submerged until her lungs were bursting, then surfaced for a gasp of air. She longed to share this wonderland with Draco but a glance showed her, he was lying motionless with one arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

Time fled by unnoticed but when her fingertips started to shrivel and her eyes began to burn from the salt water, Hermione knew it was time to get out. She trailed her reluctant way back up the beach, intending to drop water on Draco's exposed stomach as punishment for his sloth. The cold drops would be a shock to him to his sun crisped skin and she gleefully anticipated his cries of outrage. But his even breathing told her he was asleep and she couldn't do it.

He looked somehow vulnerable lying there, and Hermione felt her heart stir. She studied the straight column of his legs, his chest was hard and lean, with not an ounce of fat to blur the clean triangular sweep from broad shoulders to narrow hips.

She sank slowly to her knees and allowed her eyes to feast on the man she loved. Yes, it was true. Why bother to deny it any longer?

He stirred restlessly as though aware of her scrutiny and flung out one hand palm up. The urge to touch him was irresistible and Hermione crept closer. Carefully lowering her head, she allowed her cheek to brush his palm in a feather light caress. But when his hand applied pressure to her cheek, she drew back in alarm.

His eyes were regarding her steadily. There was no emotion on his face but he had awakened instantly alert.

"Oh! Did I wake you?" she gasped. "I'm so sorry. I was—I was just reaching for the suntan lotion." She snatched up the bottle of lotion lying next to him and turned her back so he couldn't see her face.

He reached over, taking the bottle from her nervous fingers. "Here, let me do that."

Hermione didn't trust herself to turn around so she allowed him to smooth the lotion over her shoulders. It was cool on her heated skin, but it was indescribable feeling of his long fingers slowly stroking her back that made Hermione shiver. She closed her eyes at the sensuous touch but when he gently turned toward him and started to anoint her chest, she pulled away.

"I can do that," she protested.

"I know. But it would be much more fun if I did it," he teased her again, just like about her undressing.

Ignoring that, she sprang to her feet. "You must be starved. I'll get out the lunch."

She busied herself putting out the food, self-consciously aware that his eyes watched her every movement. He was lying stretched out with his head propped on one hand, but when lunch was almost ready, he stood up and went back to the small boat and came back with a bottle of wine.

"You really do believe in first class, do you?" she asked dryly.

"What's picnic without wine?"

Whoever made these outdone themselves with just a picnic! They stuffed themselves with pate, chicken breast in aspic and delicious crusty rolls spread with herb butter. For dessert, there were huge strawberry and French pastries that looked almost too good to eat.

Hermione packed away the reams and collapsed on the sand, too full to do anything except close her eyes and sigh ecstatically.

"Are you going to fall asleep? Is that my reward for feeding you so handsomely?" Draco asked in an aggrieved tone, dropping down beside her.

"It's your fault. Wine and sunshine combined make me sleepy. Besides, you're not supposed to swim on a full stomach."

There was a pause while he dribbled sand suggestively on her bare midriff. "Want to fool around?"

She shook her head ruefully. She was used to his constant teasing. "You're never going to change."

"Neither are you. You're no more fun here than you were in Wiltshire." She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with dismay and Draco frowned. "What's the matter now?"

"The campaign!" Hermione was appalled to realize that she hadn't thought about it since the Celeste left Wiltshire. "I brought all those charts and graphs to show you and they're still in my briefcase. I haven't done a lick of work since I got here!"

He pushed her back gently. "Relax. Just pretend you're on vacation."

"But I'm not! Those figures are important and I don't—" The protesting was cut off by a firm hand on her mouth.

"I'll send a message to your boss. Let's see, how does this sound? 'Dear John Warren: Please excuse Hermione Granger for not doing her homework. It wasn't really her fault. I kidnapped her and carried her off to the islands to make hot and mad love."

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. "You're incorrigible."

"I know," he agreed cheerfully.

"That's the reason why you haven't married yet." She laughed.

"Ah, actually, no. That's another story. Would you believe no one would have me?" When she looked at him steadily, the mischief died out of his eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you this. I have never found the right girl."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. That hardly seemed possible considering the hordes of beautiful woman who flocked hopefully around Draco. "Why is that? You must be very hard to please. What are you looking for in wife?"

He considered the question, his eyes scanning the far horizon. "Well, let's see. The one that I marry has to be warm and gentle. She has to want me, not just my money or the things that I can do for her. When I make love to her, she was to want as much as I want her. She has to have a mind of her own. I don't want some brainless bint of a wife. The one won't be afraid to stand up to me because she won't let me ride roughshod over her."

He had picked up Hermione's hand while he was talking and paused to kiss each fingertip absently as he enumerated each requirement. It was though she was a stand-in for that ideal woman he hoped for. Draco's gray eyes were soft with desire as he gazed out at the water and Hermione swallowed a hard lump in her throat wishing that look was intended for her.

"Anything else this paragon has to have?" she asked tartly to keep herself from crying.

He rolled over on his side facing her and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He ran a finger playfully down her nose. "That's about it except that I wouldn't mind a bit if she looked like you with that adorable button nose and amazing brown eyes." He put the heels of his hands against her waist so the fingers splayed out over her rib cage. "I'd like there to be a little more to her though," he remarked, inspecting her body critically. "A man likes something he can hold onto in bed."

She sprang to her feet. "I haven't had any complaints so far," she taunted. At the sudden terrible stillness in his face, Hermione cried, "It was a joke, Draco! You of all people should know it was only a joke."

His eyes narrowed at her. "You're going to pay for that."

"You'll have to catch me first!" Whirling around, she raced down to the lagoon with Draco in hot pursuit.

He could have caught her easily but he allowed her to run into the water with great splashing leaps. She started to swim furiously and he followed lazily, one of his powerful strokes equal to three of hers. Suddenly, he surged ahead, catching up with her and hooking an arm around her waist.

"Alright, Granger—you asked for this!" he exclaimed, laughing.

Putting a hand on her head, he pushed her under the water and when she bobbed immediately to the surface, he waited until she took another breath and then ducked her again. Their arms and legs were churning up millions of crystal bubbles and all the little fish fled in alarm.

When Hermione surfaced the second time, she threw her arms around Draco's neck and laughed. "No more, please! I'll be good, I promise."

She twined her legs around his and pressed her body so close so that if he ducked her again, he would go under too. Their faces were only inches apart and suddenly the laughter died. For a long moment, they looked into each other's eyes. A moment frozen in time.

The water lapped like a caress around their weightless bodies and the sun smiled with benign warmth, tiny drops of water that spangled Draco's spiky eyelashes and the lock of blond her fell over this forehead.

He put a hand to the nape of her neck and she waited as if in a dream for the touch of his mouth.


	10. Chapter X

**Chapter X **

When she felt his moist lips, hers parted willingly and as his kiss deepened, the gentle motion of the sea moved her body back and forth against his and even the coolness of that water couldn't quench the flame that leapt between them. He turned her on her back, his mouth never leaving hers, and she clasped her arms around his waist. With great, lazy strokes of his arms, he propelled them toward shore. The water flowed around her and Hermione closed her eyes and gave in to the indescribable sensation.

She knew they were in shallow water when her back brushed against solid ground and his body pressed her into the wet sand. She could feel every hard muscle as she thought he was going to take her right there.

The thought of refusing was unthinkable when every inch of her cried out for his possession and she arched her body eagerly against his hard arousal, running her ands over his smooth skin and returning his kisses with equal ardor.

With a growl of triumph deep in his throat, Draco scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the beach.

Even while he settled her tenderly on the towel, Hermione refused to relinquish her hold. "Oh, Draco…"

"I know, Hermione. I know…" he murmured, kissing her throat where a pulse beats wildly.

He untied the strings of her bikini top and cupped her bare breasts in his hands. His tongue was warm on her taut nipple as he bent to taste them, and she ran her fingers through his tousled hair, pressing his head closer. In answer to her unspoken plea, he moved her hips under his, pressing against her. The fire inside seemed to melt them together.

His tongue sent the flames higher, probing her mouth with an urgent demand that left no doubt about his passion. His hands stroked her sides, sliding their curved length and molding her hips to his for a moment before his fingers hooked inside her bikini bottoms.

Suddenly, a loud shriek ripped the idyllic quiet to shreds. It was a rude, incomprehensible intrusion. When it sounded again, Hermione stirred restlessly.

"It's only a warning blast," Draco soothed.

A warning.

Hermione's eyes flew open. There was molten glow in Draco's eyes as he bent his head to hers once more but she twisted away in panic. The spell was broken and in its wake, came horror. How had she allowed this to happen? Was she intent on her own destruction?

If she gave into him now, she couldn't even think of what he would do. She didn't know how he felt, and to save herself from the heartache again, she had to stay strong and never give into him. Being used by one man was enough. She couldn't bear to live with another one using her again. It would years of heartache, because this was different.

She squirmed away from him and reached for her bathing suit top, turning away and shaking her head in mute agony. Draco couldn't believe she meant it and he pulled her back against his chest, nuzzling her neck with warm lips and cupping her breasts in his hands.

"Stay with me," he growled.

"No!" Hermione clawed at his hands, desperate because her treacherous body responded immediately to his touch. "Leave me alone."

He turned her around to face him although she tried to resist. "You can't mean that." She couldn't look at him but her palms were pressed against his chest, and when he tried to pull her closer, she forced herself not to give in. "But _why_? Why?"

How could she bear to put it into words? He wouldn't understand anyway. Could she say, because I love you too much? When he was describing the girl he would spend his life with, he had never once looked in her direction. Hermione knew she could never hope to be his wife but if he had cared even a little bit, she would have given herself to him with joy and without reservation.

He shook her gently. "You want me, Hermione, and I want you. I want you so much."

Yes, Draco wanted her, she knew that. There was still passion in the way his hands moved on her shoulders and Hermione felt her pulses to start to beat fast. Would it be so terrible to lie in his arms and just this once, let him show to her what ecstasy really meant? No! I t would be heaven, followed by hell.

If she ever experienced the full power of that magnificent body, she would be his forever. They say, what you never, you never miss. Well, she could miss him alright. Achingly and longingly, but not with the black despair that would come with full knowledge.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Draco."

His fingers bit cruelly into her shoulders and his eyes were hard with contempt. "There is a name for women like you, do you know that?"

Tears filled her eyes but she quickly lowered her lashes. Draco flung away from her as though he couldn't bear to touch her any longer and bent to gather up the towels and picnic hamper. She turned away, hurriedly fastening her top but he didn't glance in her direction.

With his arms full, Draco strode toward the motor launch, his face grim, and Hermione trailed sadly after him. He didn't offer to help her in and barely waited until she had scrambled awkwardly over the side before gunning the motor.

The boat swung around in a wide arc and Hermione huddled miserably in the stern. Her dull eyes watched the approach of the jagged, wave tossed reef with apathy. What difference did it make if they cleared it or they didn't? What difference did it make?

It took all of Draco's concentration to navigate the narrow opening and when they had cleared it and were in the open ocean, his black fury seemed to have dissipated somewhat. Perhaps it was necessary for him to win a battle, Hermione thought bleakly.

If she needed any evidence that his disappointment was merely sexual, his behavior proved it. While Hermione was hugging her arms around her trembling body, trying to breathe under the weight of her crushed emotions, Draco was standing solidly at the help, his face lifted challengingly to the breeze.

Hermione went straight to her cabin when they returned to the yacht, thankful that none of the others were around. Draco was ignoring her so completely that she might as well have been invisible and she didn't want to face the inevitable raised eyebrows that his new attitude would cause.

She showered and washed the salt out of her hair, drying it with towel absently. Her skin had acquired a delicate tan but the brown eyes had lost their sparkle. She pulled on white pants and a canary yellow blouse. Her mind was racing like a cage of waltzing mice, the same thoughts chasing each other endlessly but the result was still the same. She had done what she had to do.

In desperation, she pulled out her briefcase and spread its contents on the table. This was what she should have been doing all along. Draco made her forget everything, even her work—the only important thing in her life.

He was a dangerous man. She knew it from the start and made concerted effort to resist him, but he had taken it as a challenge. Well, no more! It wasn't likely that he would try again, but she must not give him the opportunity. If you are susceptible to colds, you don't walk around barefoot.

As she became immersed in the charts and figures, her frazzled nerves gradually calmed and her whole body relaxed. The work was engrossing but after a while, the events of the day took their toll and her tired back and shoulders protested. Hermione's head dropped and put it down on the papers. It would hurt to rest for just a few minutes.

Someone was shaking her shoulder rather roughly, and she awoke to find the cabin in darkness. The light snapped on and Draco stood over her, his face hard. "Are you going to honor us with your presence at dinner tonight?"

Her cheeks were flushed with sleep and she looked at him vaguely. "Did the dinner gong ring?"

"Some time ago," he answered grimly. "Everyone is waiting for you."

He turned toward the door, taking all of her hard won peace of mind with one. One glance from those gray eyes and she was a quivering mass of nerves again. This couldn't go on. It was a mere annoyance to him but she was breaking apart.

"Draco…" He turned and looked at her coldly. "I—I don't care for dinner tonight. If you will excuse me—"

He covered the distance between them in a few short steps and seized her arm in a circle of steel. "I won't excuse you—not for anything. You thought it was a big joke on the beach this afternoon, didn't you? Well, now you're going to live with the results."

"Draco, please—I didn't—you're hurting me."

"Tough!" he said indifferently, dragging her after him out of the room.

Everyone was already assembled at the table and Hermione slipped quietly into her chair.

"There she is," Blaise smiled. "We wondered what happened to you."

"I'm afraid I fell asleep. Please forgive me for holding you up."

"No problem," Pansy assured her kindly. "Did Draco give you a work out today? That man has an indecent amount of energy."

"Where did the two of you disappear to?" Theodore asked. "We all went into town for lunch at the Plantation and we looked for you, but you had already gone."

"No wonder," Blaise snorted. "By the time you got up, the day is half over."

"Maybe you would stay in bed too if you had a good reason," Theodore told him maliciously.

"Tony!" Pansy's voice was sharp. "Blaise is right. We should all turn over a new leaf and get up at a reasonable hour."

"Not me," Adelaide chimed in. "That's for the older folks." She looked pointedly at Pansy. "I'm strictly a night person."

"Of course. That's when the predators prowl," Pansy told her sweetly.

Adelaide gave sharp hiss of anger but before she could answer, Draco said irritably, "Ladies, could you please sheath your claws until after dinner?"

It was an uncomfortable meal. Draco's black mood spread a pall over the usually relaxed atmosphere, although no one but Hermione knew the reason for it.

After dinner, they all went on deck. The stars scoffed out in all their glory and the beauty of the night scoffed at petty mortal problems. Music was wafting from some of the other yachts and Adelaide wanted to go party hopping, but everyone else was tired after a day in the sun.

Pansy selected a chair next to Blaise and Theodore looked uneasy for the first time, as though realizing that he had finally overstepped the bounds of good taste. Draco sat with his face in darkness and contributed very little to the desultory conversation.

Adelaide was frankly bored and after a few minutes, she went into the saloon and put some music that was heard in the whole yacht. "Come dance with me, Theo," she called. But surprisingly, he declined.

"You dance with her, Zabini," he said. "I can\t be expected to take care of all the ladies."

"But you'll die trying, won't you?" Blaise sneered maliciously.

"Please, Blaise." Pansy took his hand and he bent over her for a long moment while they looked in each other's eyes. Then he kissed her gently on the forehead and went in to dance with Adelaide.

Pansy's eyes followed him fondly and Hermione was happy to see that Theodore's face looked definitely worried. If nothing else, this miserable evening might be bring Pansy to her senses.

The tension was wearing through and Hermione wanted to go the safe room. If she just stood up and said goodnight, would Draco try to stop her? Maybe it would be better to sound him out first. The others didn't realize that anything was wrong between them, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She stood before him with the moonlight streaming on her delicate profile, unconsciously twisting her hands. His face was barely visible and it was impossible to gauge his expression. "May I—I mean, do you mind if I go to bed now?"

"Suit yourself." The words were brusque, but the tone was unexpectedly soft.


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI **

Hermione dreaded leaving the cabin the next morning but there was no help for it. In jeans and a navy pullover, she went quietly up the companionway. Draco was alone in the dining saloon and she started to back out but he stopped her.

"Come in, Hermione. I want to talk to you." Her heart sank. She deserved everything he was going to say but how much more could she take? She didn't think she was strong as before. His expression was tranquil however. "Sit down. Have a cup of coffee." He even poured it for her.

"Thank you," she murmured and waited for him to put it in from of her because her hands were trembling too much to take it from him.

"Don't look so scared, I'm not going to do anything to you," he smirked. Then it faded. "Actually, I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night." Her startled eyes flew to his face and he said, "I am, after all, your host and I behaved abominably."

"Oh, no. You—"

"Let me finish. I will admit I had a good reason. You had me tied up in knots after your performance yesterday." He looked grimly at her bowed head. "But that's all finished." When her eyes questioned him anxiously, he said, "Yes, I'm throwing in the towel. You have me completely baffled and I don't want to tangle with you anymore. You made it clear from the start that you want nothing to do with me and I'm sorry. I should have listened to you. From now on, our relationship will be strictly about business."

It was what she wanted—and still did, so why did she have this urge to throw herself in his arms and cry a whole ocean full of tears? "Thank you. I—I think that's very sensible."

"It's not only sensible, it's imperative. I never thought you would get the best of me."

His pride was hurt of course, but he would get over it easily. How long would it take for this heartache to recover this time? Isn't once enough for her? She wondered.

He was looking at her with the impersonal regard of a stranger and she swallowed her tears with difficulty. "I worked up those figures for you last night," she said. "Would you like to take a look at them this morning?"

"Sure, why not? We'll get in a couple of hours work and then we'll go for a swim. With the others," he added wryly.

They day was more pleasant than Hermione would have believed possible. The six of them went to a lovely hotel called the Palm Gardens. It had a large kidney-shaped pool which Pansy preferred because she didn't like all the sand after swimming in the ocean. Adelaide didn't care one way or another since she never moved off a lounge chair. Her main object for getting into a suit was to show off her lush figure.

They had lunch in a pal shaded patio, swam and dried off in the sun. In contrast to the night before, everything was definitely upbeat. Theodore didn't even snipe at Blaise, who wore a watchful and a not too unhappy expression. Was something shaping up there? Hermione hoped so.

By the middle of the afternoon, Draco was bored. His boundless energy could be satisfied by lying still for long. "Anyone would like to go for a bike ride?"

It sounded like fun to Hermione. It had been a very long time since she had ridden a bike. And somehow, the thought of Draco Malfoy riding a bike didn't come as a surprise to her.

"I would," When Blaise spoke up; it didn't surprise her, too.

Then she offered to join them. From the sardonically amused look on Draco's face, she could tell that he was aware of her hesitancy—and the reason for it. Theodore elected to stay with the other two who never cared for muggle stuff.

Adelaide almost had second thoughts when she watched Hermione head bobbing between the broad shoulders of the two handsome men but it was too late. With a discontented sigh, she carefully turned over and exposed her perfect backside to the sun.

It was another clear blue and gold day with a light breeze blowing and Hermione was filled with a surge of happiness. All the tangled relations between herself and Draco were forgotten for the moment and she savored the pure joy of pedaling alongside him. And when he gave her a big smile, her heart sang.

"I never thought in my Hogwarts days that I would get to ride a back with two Slytherins!" she teased.

Draco laughed. "Yes, well, don't let it get out! We _do _have reputations, you know. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Quite obviously! I haven't been on a bike for almost eight years!"

Palmettos spread their fan shapes at the base of the tall pines and formed a green backdrop for pale periwinkles and vivid wild hibiscus. It was very rural and peaceful but gradually, the landscape changed as they neared the sea.

Small houses appeared, surrounded by white picket fences enclosing neat gardens filled with riotous blooms. The sea was a distant sapphire and small boats left a boiling wake as they skimmed over the surface like dragonflies.

A pier jutted out from the shore with fishing vessel tied up along its length. Putting their bikes in a rack meant for the purpose Hermione and the two men walked along the jetty admiring the day's catch. When they moved to the next boat, she cried out in delight. Muggle native fishermen were unloading clusters of gleaming conches that resembled huge bouquets of pink and cream-colored blossoms.

"Wow," she breathed. "These men are amazing."

"Yes. They go out in a small skiff to catch them," Draco explained, obviously surprising her with that piece of information about muggles she didn't know. "One man peers into the water through a glass bottom bucket while his help sculls."

"I think you've been spending too much time here," Blaise commented.

Hermione was so fascinated with the sights that she climbed out a little farther on the ledges and leaned over for a better look. When it appeared that she might meet with disaster, Draco hooked his fingers in her waistband and hauled her back to safety without her being aware of it.

An ice cream vendor came by and Draco treated the both of them with ice cream bars. They sat cross-legged on the dock with the sun warming their backs. "You have a chocolate moustache," Draco told her critically.

Her tongue tried to repair the damage. "Is it gone?"

"No, you still have a smudge. Here, let me do it." He used a forefinger to rub her mouth while she lifted her face up to his. Suddenly, his touch changed and traced the contours of mouth while her lips parted involuntarily. Hermione caught her breath and scrambled to her feet.

"I think it's time to go back," Draco said.

They returned to the yacht just in time to shower and dress for dinner. Hermione wore a white sundress that showed off her newly acquired tan. It was simple that had a zipper at the back. Spaghetti straps crossed in the back and a full skirt flared out from a dropped waistline and a simple pair of white sandals completed her outfit.

Dinner was pleasant enough, although the détente that had existed between Theodore and Pansy seemed to be somewhat strained. Probably due to Adelaide's presence that afternoon. Still, they were all pleasant enough to each other. The candlelight reflected sparkles in Hermione's eyes and she felt a bubble of joy in her chest. Why? Her relationship with Draco was still hopeless as ever but it had been such a wonderful day that she was secretly savoring every minute of it.

After dinner, as always, they went on deck to relax in comfortable lounge chairs. It was a glorious evening and the moon flung a wide swath of golden sprinkles over the restless water. The crystal stars blinked on and off and Hermione settled back with a satisfied sigh, content to drink in the beauty of the night.

The magnificent scenery had the opposite effect on Theodore. After downing his brandy in one gulp, he stood up and jingled some coins in his pocket. "This party is dying on its feet. Say, we go ashore and see that excitement we can scare up?"

"Oh, Theo, it's so peaceful here," Pansy sighed, lying back with her eyes closed.

"I'm not old enough to settle for peace and quiet yet," he answered.

Ignoring Pansy's muttering of all of them being about the same age, Adelaide jumped up with sultry eyes alight. "I'm wit you, Theo. Let's see that tropical sin we can sample this time tonight."

Blaise looked ready to kill, but he controlled himself with effort when Pansy forced a smile and said, "I guess it would be fun. Will you come with us, Blaise?"

He regarded her searchingly. "If that's what you really want to do."

Hermione shook her head when they turned to her. "Not for me, thanks. I'm going to finish up some work I started this morning."

Actually, she was only looking forward to being alone. Her body felt pleasantly relaxed and after all the exercise this afternoon and it would be nice just to lie here. She wouldn't like to be in one of those parties and shatter her relaxation with loud music and hard drinks which meant headache. No, thanks, indeed.

But when she heard Draco declining to join the others, her sense of languid well-being vanished in a flash.

"I can't let Hermione put me to shame," Draco was saying. "You go ahead and have fun. I'll do some work too."

"If that's what you want to call it." Theodore Nott's leering glance at her made Hermione's cheeks flame and angry words sprang to her lips only to be bitten back. What good would it do?

But Draco didn't let that snide remark pass. His eyes were hard as he remarked in a deceptively mild tone, "Any day now, Nott. Any day I'm going to beat you to bloody pulp."

Theodore gave a high nervous laugh as though Draco had made a joke but his darting eyes betrayed him. Draco was the one person he didn't want to antagonize. "Come on, swingers," he blustered. "Let's lay joy on the townspeople."

After they had gone, Draco stood over her chair and smoothed her hair gently. "Fortunately, there is only one Theodore Nott in this world. Don't let him bother you."

She jumped to her feet. Theodore's words had torn the fragile web of friendship they had started to weave between them and brought back all of the sexual tension. She could have wept!

"Oh, he doesn't bother me," she lied. "I can't imagine what Pansy sees in him though. Especially when Blaise is just right there. He could be a darling, why doesn't she appreciate him?"

Draco shrugged. "Who can explain what draws a woman to a man? Or vice versa?" His gray eyes had a smile in them but her pulses quickened at the glow in their depths.

"I'll—er—I'll get my briefcase now. I really do want to start working," she murmured breathlessly.

His hands closed over her bare shoulders and slowly slid to her neck where he massaged the tense muscles. "Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

The scent of him filled her sense and for just a second, the temptation to remain was so strong that she swayed toward him. But as his head bent over her, Hermione panicked. If he kissed her again like he had yesterday, she would never be able to deny him!

Twisting out of his grasp, she stepped back and drew a shaky breath. "It's what we decided was best, wasn't it?"

His hands fell to his sides and he looked at her with narrowed eyes that showed no emotion. "You're right, of course. And thanks for reminding me." He calmly walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink.

It was a long time before she could settle down to work. The blank parchment stayed that way and her shaking fingers kept dropping the quill. It had taken a lot of willpower to leave that romantic setting—and Draco Malfoy.

After literally forcing herself to concentrate, discipline took over her and the words started to flow. It was some time later that an idea hit her for a new premium tie-in unlike anything offered before. It would be something kids who enjoy Quidditch could not resist.

Alight with enthusiasm, Hermione rushed out to get Draco's reaction but the deck was deserted. After searching the main rooms to no avail, she realized he must have gone to his cabin. The thought gave her a pause but her eagerness to discuss her new idea overrode her qualms. After all, this was only business.

He answered her knock and to her intense discomfort, she saw that he was only wearing his boxers. The sight of his bare chest made her throat constrict and she couldn't raise her eyes above his bare chest. It was crazy to let it affect her likes this. She had seen him in swimming trunks, so why was this so different?

His mocking voice broke the spell. "I'll be delighted to stand here and let you inspect my chest for as long as you like but somehow, Granger, I don't think that's what you came here for."

He opened the door wider and she backed away in alarm. "I'm so sorry—I didn't know you had gone to bed."

"I haven't been sleep. I was only reading."

"Oh. Well—I—I won't disturb you." She turned to go.

His arm snaked out and stopped her flight. "You aren't disturbing me." Pulling her into the cabin, he closed the door and looked at her with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "For a liberated woman, you act remarkably like a frightened house elf."

Her heart was beating overtime but with great effort, she managed to keep her voice even. "That's ridiculous. You're imagining things."

"Am I?" His sardonic eyes surveyed her. "Then why is that you're biting your lip?"

"Oh, I tend to do that."

"When you're nervous!" His expression changed and the mockery was gone. "For a little while today, I saw another glimpse of you. Something you kept hidden. Now, you're the same woman I knew weeks ago. What is it that throws you into panic every time we're alone together?"

"It isn't panic," she answered defensively. "It's just that it's better—I mean, you said yourself that our relationship was to be strictly business."

"We both know that is not possible! I have to know the truth. Why are you so afraid of me, Hermione?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she breathed and it was partly true. She feared her own reactions almost as much as his.

He watched her intently. "Being close to someone, then? You're not frigid. You're very responsive, I know that much."

The memory of that afternoon on the sand swept over her, lighting small licking fires in her veins. She had found the strength to deny him then, but could her treacherous body do it again? Knowing the answer, Hermione turned away in a blind panic but he caught her by the arms, pushing her into a chair.

"No, I won't let you get away with it again." He stood in front of her with his legs spread and elbows out, his thumbs hooked in the drawstring waist where it sat low on his hips. "This time, we're talking about it and you're not going to run away."

She couldn't look at him and her downcast eyes focused on the papers she had clutched to her chest. They were like a life line to a drowning man. "I don't know what you mean. I came here to discuss an idea I had for the campaign but it's obvious that this is neither the time nor the place."

She started to get up but he tore the papers out of grasp and threw them on the floor. "The hell with the campaign! I want to talk about you."

He leaned over her with one hand gripping either side of her chair and Hermione was pinned down. If she was intolerable and she bent her head, every nerve in her body was aware of his supple masculine length. She was drowning in her need for him and fighting it with all her strength but if he touched her, she would be lost.

Tears formed under the thick lashes. "Please, Draco, let me go," she begged.

He stared at her, not even hearing the despairing words. "Every time I get close to you, you bolt like an animal. Why?"

She closed her eyes so he couldn't see the pain but he put his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. "What happened, Hermione? Did a close friend hurt you? Someone in your family? Your husband…" Realization dawned him and his fingers tightened. "It was your ex-husband, Weasley, wasn't it? He hurt you. You can't keep this locked inside of you. Tell me," he soothed.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he cradled her like a small child and all the years of pent up rejection and loneliness burst forth as she sobbed against his bare chest. He stroked her hair gently, rocking her back and forth. And for the first time in years, she felt cherished and protected.

He waited until the wild spasms of grief had subsided and then he said, "Tell me about it."

She never confided in another soul. She couldn't tell any of her friends…since they were _his _family. Never in her life had she imagined that of all people, she would confide in Draco Malfoy. But it felt natural to tell him about her humiliating story. His genuine concern cracked the hard shell she had built up. She told him everything. When Ron used her, abandoned her, took her for granted, then left her to marry another woman who was probably much more worth his time.

She looked at Draco as if he knew the answers to her questions. "What did I do wrong? Why couldn't he love me enough?"

His arms tightened until she thought her ribs would break. "Are you serious? Surely, you aren't blaming yourself?"

Her voice was muffled as she buried her head against his shoulder. "I've thought about it for so long."

"Hermione, you were only a teenager! You were a giver and he was a taker. From the start, you should have known he's a thick-headed, weak, obtuse little weasel. You deserved much more."

She found that out the hard way. She was too blind in love to see these things. "We went together so long," she said sadly.

A long finger blotted an errant tear that ran down her cheek. "Habit, my sweet. You were too infatuated to see his real side and just used to him. If you dated other men, you would have seen him for what he really was."

"I didn't want anyone else. I really loved him."

"Did you?" He smiled and there was a compassionate understanding in his eyes.


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter XII **

"When he made love to you, did it feel like heaven? Did you feel that with him? Making love is one of a thousand ways to show someone you love them."

"Well—I—it was satisfactory," she said defensively.

"You definitely deserve more than that," he said softly. "You deserve someone better than me, but I'm afraid I'm a selfish man."

His lips touched hers tenderly and a great sweetness filled her. She closed her eyes to savor the feeling and he kissed her closed eye lids. His mouth returned to hers, parting her lips gently, and a sleeping passion started to stir.

When his kiss deepened, she stiffened in alarm, but he stroked her body slowly, lingering over the swelling curve of her breasts. His caressing hands were gentle rather than urgent, seeking her pleasure rather than his own. Hermione knew instinctively that if she drew back, he wouldn't stop her and her heart melted with love for this man who understood her anguish and wanted to comfort her.

When he felt her relax in his arms, Draco eased onto the bed, his mouth never giving up possession of hers. While he carefully started removing her dress, his lips trailed gown her throat and then farther down as the dress gave way to reveal more of her skin, inch by delicious inch. Lifting her slightly in his arms, he slipped the dress from her shoulders and held her body against her bare chest. At the exquisite contact, a shiver ran through her and she clutched at him, the heat of his body igniting flames within her.

Holding her in the circle of one arm, he slid the dress over her hips and discarded it. One finger traced its way around the waist of her lace panties and then as her body throbbed with excitement, he slowly removed them.

Laying her back against the pillows, he looked at her nude body with glowing eyes. Her lashes fell and she moved her hands to cover herself, but he captured her hands and held them at her sides. "Don't be so shy. You're exquisite."

He kissed one corner of her mouth and then the other. Little teasing kisses that left her longing for more. When her head moved to catch his lips, he nibbled at the lobe of one ear. His mouth touched the quickened pulse in her throat and then moved to her breast. Fire ran through her as his tongue circled her aroused nipples, teasing them. She arched toward him, running her fingers around his hair.

His hands molded her hips, spreading out to caress the smooth satin of her stomach and he knelt over her, his eyes alight. Every place he touched brought new pleasure and Hermione would whimper or sigh, her passion mounting higher. She moved restlessly beneath him, her legs cradling his hips. He knew what she needed—what they both needed. He couldn't and wouldn't rush, despite the clamoring of his own body's release.

Her body arched clear off the bed with a startled cry of pleasure when his hand slid lower and cupped her. She thought about how she could stand so many assaults on the senses and survive. He continued his assault—to touch, stroke, delve, and drive her to madness.

"You're so soft." And he was the opposite and aching with need. Leaning over her, he took her mouth with his, suddenly starved for the taste of her.

His hand skimmed the inside of her thigh, closer and closer to the place that throbbed with need that his hand only left moments ago. Her blood rushed and heated. Tiny flames of need licked at her core. Then he was over her, spreading her legs, making a place for himself. "Please," she begged against his mouth. "Please, Draco…"

The final thread of Draco's control snapped, freeing him from restraint. He lowered himself in her and she gave a gasp of pleasure and surprise. Yes, _there_, that felt real good. Hermione never felt this with Ron. There was no thought of separate bodies. There wasn't Hermione and Draco, it was only called, _them_.

He took her places she hadn't known existed, dark, secret places. Erotic places. Places of need and hunger, of mind-numbing places. Each move brought her almost unbearable pleasure until the final release swept through her body, ending the tension and filling her completely satisfied.

The passion receded slowly, leaving her fulfilled. Complete. Lying spent in his arms, Hermione's eyes slowly flickered open. He was studying her face and when she gave him a tentative smile, he kissed her tenderly.

She snuggled up against him with a blissful sigh, resting her head on his shoulder. His arms curled protectively around her and a happiness Hermione had never known possessed her.

It was past ten before she insisted on returning to her own cabin and Draco was only amused when he found that he couldn't talk her out of it. "Who do you think would care?" he asked, kissing the soft skin behind her ear. But when she shook her head mutely and started to get out of bed, he reached out a determined arm and pulled her firmly back. "At least, give me something to remember you by," he teased.

After their first time together, they awoke three times in the night to love again. She didn't understand why he needed remembering anymore. But his mouth covered hers with a male demand that brooked no argument and when his hands started their exploration, Hermione was lost in him once more.

The sun was high in the sky when she awoke from a deep dreamless sleep. In spite of the late hour, she didn't arise immediately. With her knees clasped in her chest, Hermione thought about what happened between herself and Draco. In spite of all the road blocking she tried to erect, it happened and she realized that she was fiercely glad. It no longer mattered that Draco didn't love her. She was his for as long as she wanted her. And afterward?

She shook her head to clear away the dark thoughts and went into the bathroom to shower. Her eyes were dreamy as she soaped her body, remembering Draco's hands. He shown her love the way she never experienced it, never even knew it could exist. The passion mixed with tenderness made her trembling even no to think of it.

Everyone was in the dining salon having brunch. Hermione's eyes shyly searched for Draco, needing to see him.

Draco got up as soon as she entered the room and escorted her to a chair. Cupping her chin in his hand, he looked at her tenderly. "Did you sleep well?"

Her lashes fluttered before his ardent gaze and she murmured, "Yes, thank you." If only the others weren't here, she probably would have thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. With a sigh, Hermione sat down and started to drink her orange juice.

"You got here just in time, Hermione," Theodore said. "We're almost ready to leave for the regatta."

At her questioning look, Blaise explained, "It's an event of the season. Sailboats come from all the out islands to race it."

"They're like a bunch of little boys," Adelaide sniffed. "All of that dashing about for what? Just a stupid cup!"

"Go explain to a woman," Theodore shrugged while the two other men smirked.

"It could get pretty wild too," Draco grinned. "At the beginning, there are no rules so the committee doesn't recognize fouls. Rigging gets tangled, paint is scraped off when one boat rams another—it's like the start of a chariot race."

"These muggles think of enjoyable things, don't they? But it's still tamer than it used to be since we started joining them," Blaise laughed. "At least now, you have to finish with the same number of men you start with."

Hermione directed a puzzled look at him. "Isn't that usual?"

"In most races. But in this free-for-all, over-zealous skippers sometimes made the crew dive off the stern one at a time to kick the boat ahead—and some of them couldn't swim."

"I still think it's childish and you had better dream up something more exciting to do tomorrow," Adelaide pouted. "I think it's rotten to leave us alone all day."

That was the first Hermione knew the men were going to crew in the race. She had another surprise when Draco said, "The four of you will have to find your own entertainment tomorrow. Hermione and I have unfinished business to attend to." She looked at him uncertainly but he stood in the back of her chair and wrapped his arms around. "I'll be on the _White Coral_. Will you root for me?"

"You know I will." She titled her head back and he kissed her temple.

There were speculative looks around the table but Hermione didn't care. A rosy haze of happiness suffused her. Draco still wanted her and that was all that mattered.

The race was exciting as they had described it. Hermione and Pansy cheered until their throats were sore. None of their men finished first, but they made a respectable showing and were greeted like conquering heroes by pretty local girls on the dock.

Hermione watched with an unwelcome feeling of jealousy as on particular blonde stuck a flower in Draco's hair and gave him a kiss on the mouth.

He seemed to enjoy it as he had laughingly disengaged himself and looked over the heads of the crowd. Spying Hermione standing on the fringe, he pushed his way to her.

He took the scarlet flower from behind his ear and handed it to her. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Not as much as you did," she said, wiping a smudge of lipstick off his mouth with a disdainful finger.

Draco caught her hand and kissed the palm. "Can I help it if women go crazy over me?" he grinned.

The cocktail flag was out on all the ships. By tacit agreement, they avoided the Sea Worthy but visited all others. Each yacht was crammed with tanned chattering people, exhilarated by the events of the day. Wagers were paid off and excuses made by the losers. There was much laughter and a general feeling of camaraderie. Hermione recognized some of the people she met before were greeted as an old friend. But best of all, Draco stayed at her side the whole time.

The sun sank lower in the sky, slipping over the horizon as though reluctant to leave the festivities. And still the parties went on. More food appeared and music floated from every ship, tangling in maid-air into scrambled melodies. The hour grew later but the party rose in volume rather than abated.

Hermione's eyelids started to grow heavy. These people were used to staying up all night but it was all she could do to smother her yawns.

Draco caught her at it and smiled. "Tired?"

"No, I'm fine," she said brightly.

"I feel the same way," he said mockingly. "Let's get out of here."

"Please don't leave on my account. I'll be happy to stay as long as you like."

"What makes you think that's what I want to do?" he murmured.

They were pressed close together by the crowd, Hermione's hip resting against Draco's and he put an arm around her, drawing her even closer. The light in his eyes made his meaning unmistakable and she blushed. He laughed and squeezed her waist, bending his head to press his lips lightly on her lips.

But when they got back to the yacht, he left her at the door of her cabin. His warm hands clasped her shoulders as he held her an arm's length away, looking at her lovingly. He covered her mouth with his for a hard, hot kiss. Before they got carried away, he lifted his head. "You're half asleep. Go to bed and get a good night's rest."

Hermione's lower lip trembled slightly at the rejection. He took her chin in his hand, raising it so he could nibble delicately on her mouth. "Don't tempt me, sweetheart, I have big plans for you tomorrow."


	13. Chapter XIII

**Chapter XIII **

Even before they got to their destination the next day, Hermione guessed where they were going. The same motor boat flashed along the coastline and soon the high cliffs, which were all that could be seen behind the protective barrier, came into view. The noise of the waves breaking on the reed made speech impossible but Draco flashed her a triumphant grin and she smiled tremulously back.

When they had waded ashore with the picnic basket, Draco took her hand and kissed her palm. "We're going to do an instant replay—with a different ending."

She scuffed the sand with her toe. "You didn't have to come all this way for—err—that."

"Oh yes, I did! If we don't lift the evil spell that we cast over this beautiful spot, it will be useless for all time."

Did that mean he wouldn't be able to bring other women here? The thought hurt too much and Hermione put it sharply aside.

Draco stashed the wicker hamper in the shade and then pulled Hermione toward the water but she held back. "You have the sequence of events wrong," she told him mischievously. "You're supposed to take a nap first."

"Listen here, woman. I'm the director of this epic and you'll have to give me a little artistic leeway." He tugged at her arm and she splashed happily after him into the sparkling water.

They swam out and then dived under the sunlit surface to the cool blue depths that had excited Hermione before. It was twice as enchanting with Draco to share it and as they watched the jewel little fish, her hand reached out to his.

"Oh, Draco, aren't they beautiful?" Hermione cried when they surfaced for air.

"Very beautiful," he agreed with a smile, his eyes roving over her features.

"I want to see more." She dived with scarcely a ripple and Draco followed.

When he thought she was tiring, he said, "That's enough for now. We'll come in again later."

"Just once more," she begged and dived before he had a chance to say no.

He followed her under and took her in his arms, rolling her in a lazy spiral while her hair floated out in waving tendrils like some lovely see anemone. She put her arms around his neck and his cool lips touched hers then floated away as the current separated them, only to return again.

When they were back on the beach, he dried her face tenderly and Hermione closed her eyes. "Are you cold?" His low voice in her ear was concerned.

She turned toward him and the heat of her body reassured him. He held so close that she could hear the measured beat of his heart and rising warmth kindled in her lower limbs. Draco's knee was gently sliding up and down her leg as he kissed her throat, his tongue delicately tasting the salty drops he found there.

He slowly untied the strings of her bikini top and removed the tiny little scraps and then her bottoms, his eyes devouring her body. The warmth that suffused her reached her cheeks but she lay still under his regard. Her eyelashes fluttered with effort, but she looked at him trustingly. Draco's hands stroked her sleek wet body, lingering over her thighs. His slow wandering caresses were almost unbearably sensuous and then his mouth found her breasts. She clung to him, pressing her softness against his hard masculinity.

His hold on her tightened as he went back up to kiss her waiting lips and her arms automatically went around his neck, hugging him harder. He caressed the tops of her breasts with his fingertips and then they found her nipples and rubbed them. "Mm, I love being able to touch you like this." Holding her gaze, one of his hands trailed down to caress the inside of her thighs and coaxed her legs apart to claim the hub of her femininity. She moaned his name as he cupped his palm and squeezed and then stroke inside her.

He straightened so that his face was on level with hers, but his hand stayed. He stroked again into her wetness, readying her for his lovemaking. He rose to take off his swimming trunks. Her hand went to touch him intimately when he came back to her. He drew in a sharp breath at her caress and stopped her.

"Tell me what you want," he told her in a husky voice.

"Oh. I—I want you to make love to m-me," she gasped out.

"No more than I want it, my darling." He poised himself above her. The moment of union brought them both to an excruciating level of pleasure. The desire and love was so intense, Hermione thought its heat would burn them both. Together, they caught fire and reached the top, rocking them to the depths of their souls.

For a long time, Draco lay very still in her arms. Hermione floated slowly to earth, her body vibrant with the pleasure he had given her. She gazed at the heavens they had so recently left and when dazzled eyes returned to Draco, she found him looking at her tenderly.

"Now you know why we had to come back here." It wasn't a question but a statement.

She stretched her arms wide. She had never felt this happy in years! Running her fingers through his damp hair, she was overcome with the force of her love for this wonderful man. "Yes, Draco, yes!"

Draco laughed and smoothed the hair away from her flushed face. "I'll say what you lack in experience you up in enthusiasm." Stillness came over her and the wide brown eyes were suddenly troubled. He cupped her cheek in his pal and asked lovingly, "What's the matter?"

"There have been a lot of women, haven't there, Draco?" she asked slowly.

He leaned over and nibbled at her ear. "What a time to think of something like that."

"No, but it's true." She carefully moved her head away from his disturbing mouth.

"You're the woman in my life." He ran his tongue delicately over her lips but when they didn't open, he sighed. "Alright, it's true. I'm almost thirty, what did you expect?"

"I didn't expect anything," she mumbled, turning her face away.

Draco propped himself on one elbow and captured her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "I don't like where this conversation is leading. Suppose you tell me what's on your mind right now."

"It isn't important."

"Anything that makes you close up like a shell is important to me. Now, tell me what's bothering you," he said firmly.

"It's just that—it makes me feel insecure. I—do I satisfy you, Draco?" The words came out in a little rush.

He looked at her incredulously. "I can't believe what I just heard!"

"But—do I?"

He put his arms around her and crushed her to him, winding his legs around hers. He kissed way around her jaw to her ear to whisper huskily, "Would you like me to show you just how much?"

Her hands on his shoulders held him for enough so she could see his face. "I know I don't have much experience and I've been kind of a trouble to you."

His merriment threatened to spill over. "That isn't exactly the word I would have used, but go on."

"Well, I just thought—I mean it occurred to me that you were just being…kind."

His sudden shout of laughter caused two sea gulls flying overhead to change directions abruptly. "I have been called many things in my life, Granger, but never kind."

"You know what I mean," she protested.

He cupped her face in his palms and looked at her tenderly. "You're a sweet, little idiot, Hermione."

"I should know more," she said humbly. "But Ron was the only one and he—"

He put his hand over her mouth. "There is no such person as Ron. I want you to erase him from your mind completely." He cupped her breasts possessively and his lip curled with scorn. "I can tell he didn't leave any impression on your body."

It was true. Ron's "lovemaking" was selfish and uninspired. Hermione had often felt vaguely restless and unsatisfied but because she had nothing to compare it to, she was quietly submissive. Draco shown her what passion she was capable of and the feelings she had for Ron was only an imitation of her consuming love for Draco.

"I want so much to please you," she whispered. "You'll tell me what to do, won't you?"

"Would you like your first lesson now?" he murmured, nuzzling her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

The sun was past its zenith when Hermione finally stirred in his arms. "Don't go," he said, tightening his grip.

She ran a tickling finger the length of his spine and he squirmed against her. "A fine director you turned out the script completely."

He opened one sleepy eye. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we're supposed to eat lunch first," she teased.

He sat up and looked at her severely. "The honeymoon is over when the bride starts to complain."

Her heart skipped a beat. What would it be if she married him and not Ron? They would have been still married, of course. Draco is nothing like Ron. Nothing. Being married to him would never happen—someday, he would walk out of her life. The agonizing thought almost brought tears, but she swallowed them resolutely. Why think of the future?

Smiling brightly, she said, "The honeymoon is over when the bride dies of hunger."

"You're right, it's lunch time." She started to get up but he pushed her back gently. "No. You like there where I can feast my eyes on you. I'll put out the food. "She reached a languid arm for her bikini but he tossed it out of her reach. "You don't really need this, I want to look at you."

"Draco! I have to get dressed for lunch."

"No, you don't!"

He wouldn't budge, so she stopped pestering him. She lay back on the towel, very aware that while they were eating, Draco's warm gaze feasted on her body.

Hermione stretched out after lunch, replete with happiness. "I'll never forget this wonderful day."

"I hope not. I intend to replenish the memory every now and then."

"Besides that!" she reproved him. "This lovely beach and the ocean. It's like another world down here."

"We'll come back here—just the two of us."

"I'd love that," she smiled at him lovingly.

When they got back to the yacht in the late afternoon, Blaise was waiting for Draco's arrival. They were both closeted in the saloon for a long time and afterward, Draco came down and tapped at Hermione's door.

"I'm afraid it's bad news. We have to return to Wiltshire."

She had known the time had to come, but her heart still sank. The idyll was over and a cold premonition chilled her. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, it's just a business matter but it needs my personal attention and Blaise's."

"Of course, I understand."

"I knew you would," he said approvingly. "I hate to leave, especially now." His warm smile told her the reason. "But it can't be helped. We'll come back though, I promise you."

He meant it now, Hermione knew, but what if something happened to change his mind? Or somebody? A feeling of desolation swept over her but she managed a smile. "That would be nice, but if I take any more time off, I might not have a job to come back to."

"With your intelligence, I'm pretty sure you won't have any trouble for any other jobs. And if not, don't you worry, I'll take of you. I'll keep you in style. I'll dress you in jewels and furs—and then I'll undress you." His eyes glowed and Hermione felt the familiar melting inside her, but the words hurt. She didn't want an affair with him. She wanted something much deeper than that—to be his forever.

A/N: I'm not good with love scenes, so I asked my friend, Gina, for help. Praise her for that hot hot hot scene. I only take part with the few sentences they said during :D


	14. Chapter XIV

**Chapter XIV **

It was snowing when they got back to Wiltshire. Hermione shivered in the unaccustomed cold. Snowflakes were tangled in her long lashes, not melting until she was well inside the warm offices of McNulty and Trent.

"Welcome back!" Gillian cried. "How were the Virgin Islands, you lucky thing?"

"A lot warmer than here," Hermione shivered.

"I can imagine. You have a glorious tan," Gillian said admiringly. "Don't try to tell anyone you were working down there."

"I really did some work."

"Oh, sure! Like lying on the beach?"

Hermione's mouth curved impishly. "No, that part wasn't work."

"Tell me about," the other woman commanded avidly. "Did you manage any time alone with the gorgeous hunk? Did you thaw him out?"

"What makes you think he's cold?" Hermione giggled.

"Ah-ha! So something _did _go on under that tropical moon!"

"No, of course not." Hermione hurriedly repaired the damage. She never should have given even the slightest hint, but the feeling of happiness that was bubbling inside made her want to share with everyone. "There was a whole shipload of people and Dra—err—Mr. Malfoy was very busy playing host."

"You started to call him Draco," Gillian cried gleefully. "You got friendlier than you are letting on."

"Not at all. I work for the man so it's natural to think of him by his first name."

"Didn't he make even a teeny weeny little pass?" Gillian asked hopefully.

"No, he did not make a teeny weeny little pass," Hermione said firmly over the laughter welling up inside her. By no stretch of imagination could Draco's action be described in those terms. "I have to work now, Gillian. I shudder to think of what my desk looks like!"

Her desk was indeed piled high, but before she attacked it, John Warren paid her a visit.

"It's good to see you John! How's your back?"

He made a face. "It still gives me fits but I expect to live."

"I know how painful it must have been. You were the one who wanted to make the trip."

He shrugged. "That's the roll of the dice. How did it go? Did you keep Malfoy happy?"

She looked at him sharply, but the question was evidently an innocent one. "Yes, he seemed satisfied with the figures. We did a little work but not as much as I would have liked. It was difficult to keep his mind on business in that environment."

John shook his head. "You're a wonder, Hermione! Any other woman would have been living it up in the lap of luxury, but you're all work, aren't you?"

Hermione felt a surge of guilt but fortunately there was someone who needed John's attention.

The day was frantic with so many things needing her attention after her absence. Lunch time came and went and finally her secretary pointedly put a sandwich on her desk but Hermione had time to eat only half of it.

It was late afternoon when the office messenger came up to bring her a package. "Who is it from?" she asked the messenger.

He shrugged. "I'm only being paid to deliver, not ask questions."

After he left, she tore of the wrappings. They revealed a black velvet box and inside on a bed of white satin were a beautiful diamond and red rubies. The cold white diamonds glittered like the stars over the Virgin Islands and the rubies were faceted circles of blazing red.

There was also a card that read: _To my beautiful Hermione_.

The small square of thick pasteboard fell from her nerveless fingers and she looked at the bracelet as though it were a snake. And was this her punishment? Payment for services rendered indeed!

How could he do this to her? She had given herself in complete and trusting love and he was paying her off like some cheap little—Hermione covered her face with shaking fingers and then the anger started. Raw fury surged through her. How dare him!

She scattered parchments on the desk heedlessly until she found a blank pad. Grabbing a quill, she started to write swiftly, almost stabbing holes in the parchment with the force of her rage. _Dear Mr. Malfoy: Your payment has been duly received and appreciated, however I am taking this opportunity to return it to you. There are no hidden charges at McNulty and Trent. We employees are only too happy to perform any little extra service that might be needed in order to keep a client happy_.And she signed it, _Miss Hermione Granger_.

She frantically went in search of the office messenger. She gave him the name and address, and thanked him. After a few minutes, Hermione came back to her office and paced like a caged animal. Humiliation devastated her. She thought that Draco was different but the chips were all down, all men were alike. They took a woman had to give and if it wasn't forthcoming willingly, they took it by trickery. The fact that Draco was willing to pay for his little pleasures didn't make him any better.

How could she have been such a fool? How could she ever have believed she was in love with him? He was an experienced lover and he had known exactly how to seduce her, how to bring her to life under his expert touch. She trembled even now at the memory and hated herself for it. But that was all over. It would never happen again.

The busy tempo of the office gradually quieted as the day came to an end. Hermione's secretary was standing in the doorway in the watching her boss sat huddled in a chair staring blankly out the window.

"I'm leaving now, Hermione. Those letters you dictated are on my desk waiting for your signature."

Hermione swung her chair around and looked vaguely at the girl. "Oh—right, thank you, Charlotte, I'll take care of them."

She hesitated. "Is there anything else?"

"No, that's fine." Hermione forced a smile.

"You look tired, why don't you pack it in for today?"

"Soon. There are just a few more things I have to attend to."

Charlotte hesitated. "Would you like me to stay? I don't have anything to do tonight."

"No, you may go. There isn't anything you can do."

"Well, if you're sure…" Charlotte left reluctantly, but Hermione had spoken the truth. There was nothing anyone could do.

The fireplace roared and she faced it restlessly. But the face that had just appeared sent a shot of adrenaline through her.

"Hermione? What the hell is going on?" Draco's voice was irate and his expression was unreadable. "I just got your note and—" His voice died in mid-sentence as she cut the connection.

There was nothing else to be said and Hermione knew that it was not only useless, but dangerous to talk to him. He could always twist her in knots, making her say things—and do things she didn't want to do. Self-preservation dictated that she stay as far away from him as possible.

The fire came roaring again. She ignored him and fled down the hall. Draco made it impossible for her to remain in the office. It was persecution. His aura was everywhere and she didn't know where to turn.

She pulled on her coat and went out into the winter night, shivering in the cold. Where was there to hide? It would have been best to stay at the office and lose herself in work, but Draco had taken away that option with his constant harassment by fireplace.

She walked back to her flat. Her head was buried in her coat collar to protect from the icy wind but she didn't really care. She felt angry and hurt. She was fumbling for her key when her purse was rudely snatched out of her hand. Hermione gave a startled and panicked cry.

"Let me do that," Draco commanded. "You look frozen."

She didn't realize it until he mentioned it, but she decided not to answer it. "What are you doing here?" she demanded but he merely shoved her through the doorway.

Once inside, he located the key and looked at her with raised eyebrows. There was nothing to do but tell him her apartment number. It wasn't until they were inside her apartment and she witched on the lights that Hermione could see his face clearly and what she saw wasn't reassuring. There were deep lines running from his nose to the grim mouth and his eyes were gray pebbles.

"Alright, now what the bloody hell did you mean by that note?" he demanded.

Hermione's were trembling so hard that they threatened not to support her, but she raised her chin disdainfully. "I think it was self-explanatory."

"Like hell it was!"

"I don't think we have anything more to say to each other and I don't have to stand here and be abused in my own apartment."

He took her by the shoulders and his long fingers but painfully, even through her heavy coat. "If you think this is abuse, wait until you see what I have in store for you," he ground out.

Hermione tried to twist out of his iron grasp but it wasn't possible. "Will you please leave?" she glared up at him.

"Not until I get some answers. Why are you acting like this? What happened to the sweet woman I held in the Virgin Islands?"

"The gullible fool, you mean," she answered scornfully.

"You can't mean that!" His hands loosened and started to massage her shoulders instead of punishing them. "Are you regretting the fact that we made love?"

"Yes!" But was she really? Hermione knew she would forget those moments in his arms no matter how hard she tried. It had been so beautiful until he spoiled it all.

"I don't believe you, so don't even try to lie. Your body does not."

She pulled away from him and flung her coat angrily over a chair. "It's true! But I don't expect you to believe it. It would dent your ego too much, wouldn't it?"

"I never had to worry about my masculinity. It's you I'm thinking of! Why are you getting back to who you used to be?"

"I'm not! That's a figment of your imagination anyway. Just because I don't want you, you make up fanciful tales to assuage your pride!"

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously and he moved toward her with the silent tread of a cat. "So you don't want me?" he asked softly. "Who are you trying to fool? If I took off all your cloths, I could take you right here on the floor."

She backed away from him, her eyes wary. "Get away from me!"

"Why? Because you know it's true, Hermione?" His smile was mirthless.

"Of course not! I—I just don't want you near me."

A long arm circled her waist, pulling her so close so that she could feel his hard thighs pressing against hers. His hand slid under her hair, forcing her face toward him. His mouth covered hers in a punishing kiss that demanded a response, forcing her lips apart and ruthlessly plundering the softness inside.

Hermione's head was spinning and she hold onto him as the only security in a tilting world. His hands caressed her back and moved to caress her breasts that were aching for his touch. She trembled against him while the fire he could light so easily crept higher.

His eyes were blazing with triumph when he finally raised his head. "Tell me again that you don't want me."

Hermione's eyes were glazed with passion and she had difficulty returning to reality. When she saw the look on his face, she wanted to die. Scrubbing the back of her hand fiercely over her mouth, she cried, "I hate you!" She cast around wildly for a way to hurt him as he was hurting her. "I hate you more than I was a kid! More that I hated Ron!"

Draco frowned and his eyes turned into chips of gray ice. "Ah yes, Ron Weasley, the faithless husband. I can't say I appreciate being reduced to someone so low."

"No, that doesn't apply to you, does it? You're accomplished, thoroughly experienced seducer. A real professional!"

"You might even call me a teaching pro," he agreed smoothly, hiss manner dangerously controlled. "As I recall it, you were the one who begged me only recently to teach you how to please a man."

She gasped. "That's despicable!" The way he put it made her sound like some wanton. She hadn't mean just any man—only him and he knew it!

"It's funny that you should think it's despicable for a man and a woman to fulfill their passion for each other with tenderness and a desire to give mutual pleasure. Or maybe it's just revealing."

"Stop!" She put her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear any more. Why do you have to remind me?"

He pulled her hands down roughly. "Because professional seducers aren't gentlemen!"

His hands were like steel bands around her wrists and Hermione tugged wildly but she couldn't break his grip. "Let go of me! I hate you!"

He let her go abruptly as soon has the last three words came out of her mouth. Hermione massaged her wrists, scarcely conscious of what she was doing. "Get out! Get out and don't ever come back!"

Draco looked at her contemptuously. "For a minute, I thought I'd seen a new you. I thought I finally found someone, but I was mistaken. Maybe there is something worth saving for but I'll never know because frankly, you aren't worth the trouble."

The door slammed after him and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself to keep out the terrible cold. Her pride was in ashes and felt desolate. It was over between them and she ought to be happy that he wouldn't be harassing her any more, but Hermione felt as though her life had just ended.

Throwing herself down on the couch, she cried until her throat ached from the racking sobs. She only wished that she were as frigid as he imagined her to be. Every nerve in her body was crying out for him but there was no way she could surrender to Draco again. She could never have Draco's love but if he didn't even respect her. If she was just a body to be bought and paid for. She shuddered uncontrollably at the thought.


	15. Chapter XV

**Chapter XV **

The first thing Hermione did when she got to the office the next morning was pay a visit to John Warren's office.

"I want to be taken off Malfoy's account," she told him without preamble.

"You must be kidding!"

Her mouth twisted wryly. "Would I joke about something like that?"

"But why? You wanted this account so badly, you could taste it. You worked hard like a beaver to get it. Why on earth would you want out?"

She twisted her hands together nervously. "I'd rather not explain if you don't mind."

"But I do mind. It's unusual to say the least, and besides that, it's downright stupid. This is the chance of a lifetime. If you do a good job on this campaign, you can almost write your own ticket."

"I know all that," she answered drearily. "But there was certain—conditions—that make it impossible for me to continue."

"Let's talk about it, Hermione. Is it Malfoy?" When she bowed her head and didn't answer, he said, "Did something happen between you two?"

"You want have any difficulty with him," she said, no answering his question. "He will be quite amenable to my leaving the account."

John shook his head. "It's bad business to get involved with a client."

"I'm not involved with him," Hermione countered. "It's just a clash of personalities and I can't take it any longer. You know that we had quite a bad history. We never got along until now, and he's pretty difficult to work with."

"I haven't found him that way. Sure, he knows what he wants, but every time he's made a suggestion or rejected a concept, it has strengthened the campaign."

"Okay, if you're so enamored with him, then you work with him. I can't."

"That is a very unprofessional attitude," he said disapprovingly.

Hermione found herself at the breaking point. Her whole life was going down the drain and she didn't feel she could take any more. Holding herself tightly under control, she said, "I would rather not discuss it any further. Will you please take me off the account?"

Although John didn't understand and strongly disapproved, when further reasoning failed to sway her resolve, he reluctantly agreed.

Hermione went back to her own office feeling limp. She voluntarily given up everything she worked so hard to achieve. Her future seemed dark now all because of Draco Malfoy. Another man succeeded in tearing her foundation out from under her. When would she ever learn?

It was a long dreary morning and when a face appeared at the roaring fire of the fireplace about noon, she faced it listlessly. Draco was the last person in the world she expected to hear from and it caught her off guard.

"I've been informed that you have asked to be taken off the account." His voice and expression showed the arrogance she knew he was capable of.

"That's correct." He looked as if he needed an explanation although surely none was necessary. "It—it seemed best under circumstances."

"Best for whom, Ms. Granger?" he asked curtly. "You certainly weren't thinking of my company."

"That's not fair! My leaving won't affect the quality of the service you will receive."

"That's your opinion. The campaign is winding down. At this stage of the game, I don't propose to bring in someone completely unfamiliar with the proceedings just because a hysterical female gets her feelings hurt."

"That's not the reason and you know it," she said hotly.

"Do I?" She saw his face looked derisive then hardened. "I'm not interested in reasons, only results. You will stay on the job and finished what you started."

It had an ominous ring and her heart sank. Wasn't he through punishing her? "Please let me go, Draco," she pleaded.

"Don't beg, Hermione. It doesn't become you," he said coldly.

"You are the most despicable man I've ever met!"

"So you told me. And I'm no gentleman but I _am_ your employer and I will continue to be."

His implacability told her that further argument was useless, but she had to make one final try. "And if I refuse?"

"I believe I told you before what would happen to your career."

"You would do a thing like that to me after—" The incredulous rush of words came to an abrupt halt.

"After what?" he mocked. "After the tender episode you regret so much?"

"You're a devil," she whispered.

"It's wonderful how many words you fling about—devil, seducer—but don't forget, I'm also the man with the checkbook. I've bought and paid for your services."

"With a little bonus thrown in," Hermione said bitterly.

"You mean the trip? I like to keep my employees happy if I can."

That wasn't what she meant but Hermione was glad that he hadn't mentioned the bracelet. "I would rather not talk about that if you don't mind."

"I suppose not. It must be very galling to remember that for once in your cold, calculating life, you behaved like a human being."

Hermione was engulfed by cold fury and it put steel in her spine. "I realize you are paying for my time, Mr. Malfoy, but I believe it could be put to better use. When you are through insulting me, I'll get back to work."

"Oh, I'm not through with you yet, Ms. Granger," he said softly. "This is just the beginning."

Hermione was shaking when she cut off the connection. Draco's threat was only lightly veiled and the question was _could she survive the battle of wits without being broken in half_?

The opening shot was fired later that morning when Janis sent a note, demanding their presence at Malfoy's offices. She refused to elaborate but thought that there was trouble brewing. Hermione's knees felt week and she was glad that John was along for moral support. Draco could scarcely make any personal remarks with others present.

Her fears on one score were at least groundless. Draco wasn't at the meeting.

"Mr. Malfoy hasn't returned from lunch yet but we can start without him," Janis said. "They just delivered this ad that's supposed to be printed but it's all wrong."

It was a broom ad that Hermione and John were especially proud of and they looked at each other blankly. A quantity of the newly released broom for kids was displayed up against walls. Each of them would eventually show its new feature.

"That is not the way we sent it over to you," Janis accused. "The brooms were supposed to be roaming around and not just being displayed like that."

Hermione examined the picture carefully. "But how could the people see the brooms if they're whizzing about?"

"Well, _our _department liked it that way. And also, what makes you such an authority? This isn't your field and I suggest you leave it up to the experts."

"Ladies, please," John soothed. "I'm sure this can be worked out."

"It can if you change it!" Janis fumed. "Otherwise, I won't approve it."

"But it's already been to the printer," Hermione cried. "Those are expensive and our budget is tight on it already. It would be a waste of money."

"Not our money," Janis said smugly. "You made the mistake, you absorb the cost."

Draco joined them in the midst of the wrangling and for once, Hermione welcomed his appearance. "What's going on? I could hear you halfway down the hall."

"Oh, Draco, I'm glad you're here," Janis exclaimed. As usual, she turned almost simpering in his presence. "Did you have a good lunch?"

"Yes, very nice. I meant to get back sooner but the company was so fascinating that I couldn't tear myself away." He smiled reminiscently. "I hope we can get whatever this is cleared up fast." With a wink at John, he added, "I want to leave early."

There was no doubt about his meaning and Hermione felt a knife thrust in her midsection. Draco hadn't waste much time finding female companionship, had he? The new woman was probably his reason for returning early from the Islands. All that talk about business was only a cover. But why did he bother with her?

Janis was presenting her case and John was giving his rebuttal. Hermione sat back and let the argument rage around her. What difference did it make?

"And how do you feel about this, Ms. Granger?" Draco asked softly. "You don't seem very interested. Is it too much to ask that you participate?"

"I've already told your assistant how I feel," she answered shortly.

"Then I suppose you tell me. I've never been expert on legilimency and I always have difficulty judging your reactions."

She flushed angrily and hoped that she was the only one to catch his double meaning. "I think the ad should stand as it is. You did hire us for our expertise."

"Some things don't quite live up to expectations though," he pointed out suavely.

"If you are really unhappy about this, we'll change it," John interposed hastily.

"No! It's right the way it is and you know it." Hermione faced Draco passionately. "I can't believe you would sabotage your own campaign just to get back at me."

He sat back with the satisfied look on his face of a cat that has just devoured a canary. "I can't imagine why you're taking this so personally, Ms. Granger." His rueful smile and shrug were directed at John as one man of the world to another.

The fact that the matter was eventually decided in their favor did nothing to mollify Hermione. She was still smarting under his barbs when she went back to the office.

The next salvo from Draco was more serious, though it didn't come immediately. Hermione managed to keep out of his way for almost two weeks. He sent notes frequently, but since she manufactured errands to keep herself out of the office, she never received it. It was a cat and mouse game with the mouse on the winning end for a change, but she didn't delude herself that it could last forever.

Draco finally left an angry message that he wanted to see her in his office immediately. The timing couldn't have been worse. She had to confront a grim-faced Draco all alone because John wasn't available to share the thunderbolts. He was closeted with the network people.

Draco was already at the board room when she got there. The moment the door closed behind her, he exploded. He ranted about how she didn't answer his messages. He said that he wasn't satisfied with her work nowadays and he complained about her lack of attention and focus on the work that needed to be done.

She waited until he finished, when he did, he smiled that made her feel frightened. "You opinion of me is so often derogatory that you even doubted that I was sending you messages and trying to contact you about business matters."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know—" Hermione stopped abruptly.

He sprang the trap. "No,, of course you didn't."

Hermione looked at him uncertainly. His anger seemed out of all proportion. Surely there was something more than the work behind it but what? "I'll go over Marvin's right now and see if I can straighten everything out."

"And then what?" he sneered. "I suppose you'll fade into the background and I won't be able to get into town with you for another week or so. For a woman who prided herself on professionalism, you are the sorriest excuse for an executive that I've ever come across."

There was more. Hermione trembled under the tirade of his angry words and by the time he dismissed her, she had tears in her eyes. Her bent head tried to conceal the fact as she practically ran down the corridor staring at the beige carpeting, her vision blurred.

"Watch out!" The shout didn't even register and a second later, she walked straight into a large upright metal dolly loaded with heavy, filled boxes.

Hermione saw stars as she stumbled over the boxes and hit her head on the rounded metal bar of the dolly handle. Her legs buckled under her as a pair of strong arms gather her to a hard chest and she inhaled the familiar aroma of after shave mingled with a male scene she would never forget.

"Are you alright, darling?" A deep voice asked anxiously.

No, she must have imagined the darling, Hermione's dazed mind told her.

Draco lifted her easily in his arms and carried her into his office where he put her gently on the leather couch. His hand was infinitely tender as it smoothed the dark hair from her forehead and inspected the bump that was rapidly rising.

His face was filled with concern and his touch was gentle, just like the Draco that she knew and yes, still loved. Hermione felt a lump rising in her throat and to combat it. She gave him a faint smile. "Only when I laugh."

She started to get up. He was sitting on the edge of the couch bending over her and it was too much of a temptation to put her arms around his neck and pull his head down to hers. Draco frowned slightly and pushed her back. "Lie still," he commanded.

He went outside and after a few minutes later, he came back to her. "How did it happen, Hermione?"

She shrugged and then winced as her temple started to throb. "I guess, I'm just clumsy."

"We both know that's not true. I tried to warn you. Didn't you hear me, or were you in such a rush to get away from you that you didn't want to?"

He watched her searchingly and her long lashes swept down to veil troubled eyes. "I guess I was thinking about something else."

"About what I said to you in there?" It was more of a statement that a question. "Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

"No, things have gone wrong and I can understand why you were being upset."

"You've being very forgiving. My behavior was inexcusable and we both know it. You aren't expected to carry the whole campaign on your own."

"Maybe not, but you have every right to expect good services. I didn't take your—your attitude personally," she lied.

Draco groaned. "I don't know how I could have said all those things to you when I really wanted—" He took her hands and held them tightly. "Hermione, don't you know why I've been acting like this?"

There was a perfunctory knock on the door and it opened and a young man walked in carrying a black bag. "Mr. Malfoy, it's good to see you again. I'm sorry there was an accident. This is the patient, I take it."

Hermione's eyes widened incredulously. "You called him for a little bump on the head?"

Draco didn't answer her question. "This is Gavin Knoll."

He was young and round-faced, not much older than Hermione, with a shock of light brown hair falling across his forehead. He looked at her appreciatively as he lightly touched the bruise on her forehead.

"Mm, that's a nasty one alright. But it could have been worse. A little farther down and you would have had one pip of a black eye." He grinned. "I like them much better brown."

Draco scowled. "Save the bedside manner and get on with it, Knoll."

The grin disappeared and he started on healing Hermione's bump. After gently feeling her entire head and neck, he reached into the open bag and took out a small vial potion. "This should ease the pain."

She swallowed them obediently. "Thank you, but I'm sure this is just a big fuss over so I can check later to see how you're feeling."

"That won't be necessary," Draco said shortly. "We'll call for you if we need you."

"Oh…uh—well, sure." He turned to Hermione. "I would take it easy for today."

"Don't worry, I'm going to take Ms. Granger home," Draco said.

After the healer had taken his reluctant leave, Hermione said, "It isn't necessary for you to take me home. I'm in good condition. But really, I feel much better that I ought to go back to the office."

"That's exactly what I expected you'd do." He picked up her coat and helped her into it. "Come on, you're going home," he said firmly.

A wave of dizziness struck her as she got up and Hermione clung to Draco's arm and closed her eyes briefly. "Maybe you're right. I think I'd like to lie down for a while. But you don't—"

"Yes, I do," he interrupted. "Someone has to take care of you because you're doing a lousy job of it yourself."


	16. Chapter XVI

**Chapter XVI **

His arm around her, strong and comforting, and she relaxed against his shoulder. Draco wasn't going to take no for an answer and she honestly didn't want him to. It was so good t be close to him again, to feel the warmth of his body, and to smell his scent.

He insisted on accompanying her all the way to her apartment. She turned to thank him at the door but after unlocking it, he followed her inside. His presence seemed to fill the room and suddenly, she felt extremely shy.

"Thank you for bringing me home. I'll be alright now and I know you must be anxious to get back."

He smiled. "Is that the impression I give?"

"No, you've been very kind. But you must have any number of appointments and things to do."

"They can wait. It's you I'm concerned about. I want to be sure you follow the healer's orders."

"I will, I promise," she assured him.

"Good. You can start taking off your clothes."

"What—what?"

"You're going to get into bed and stay there at least until tomorrow. Maybe longer if I think it's necessary," he told her decisively.

"You're not going to stay here?" Hermione was aghast.

"Would you like me to?" He was smiling down at her and her bones seemed to turn to warm, liquid honey.

"No! You can't—it would—how would it look?"

"Calm down." He framed her face in his palms, running his thumbs gently over her cheeks. It felt so good to have him touch her again that Hermione closed her eyes to savor the feeling. Draco immediately removed his hands. "I'm sorry, does that hurt?"

"What?" She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Oh…no, it doesn't hurt."

The moment passed and he said, "I think what you need is a cup of hot tea to warm you up."

"Yes," she said dully. "I'll make some."

"No, I'll do it, you go get undressed." She followed him toward the kitchen but he turned her around and gave her a gentle push toward the bedroom. "I don't need any help. There can't be too many places to hide a tea kettle in here."

Even though Hermione closed the bedroom door, she could still hear him rattling around in the kitchen and it was a good sound. It had been a long time since there was a man around the house. Not that Ron could even be found in the kitchen. His excuse was practice, practice and more needed practice. Often when Hermione came home after work, she won't find Ron anywhere, or if she did, he would be sleeping on the couch or in the bedroom.

After getting undressed, she put on a long yellow bathrobe and belted it securely around her slender waist. Draco was sitting in a big chair idly leafing through the newspaper when he eyed her appreciatively as she self-consciously went over to perch on the sofa.

A slight frown creased his forehead though when he noticed her bare feet. "Where are your slippers? Do you want to catch a cold on top of everything else?" She started to get up, but he said, "No. You stay here and I'll get them."

He came out carrying her white indoor shoes she barely uses. Kneeling in front of her, he took her foot in his hand.

As he prepared to slide the slipper on, he looked at her and there were tiny lights glittered in his eyes. "If this fits, you have to marry, you know that don't you?"

Her lips parted at the statement but he caressed her ankle and their glances held for a heart-stopping moment. Then a tortured banshee wail split the silence. The tea kettle reached a crescendo.

With a muttered oath, Draco strode into the kitchen and snatched it off the burner. Its descending moan was accompanied by a rattle of dishes being slammed about. It a short time, he reappeared with a tray containing two cups of tea, a plate of cookies, cream, sugar and lemon.

Hermione gave him a tremulous smile. "I see you found everything."

"No problem. I made those sharp knives out of utility drawer too. That's no place to keep them, you could cut yourself," he said severely.

She grinned. "You'll make—" The words stopped abruptly. She had been about to say, _you'll make a lucky woman a great husband_.

His eyes narrowed. "I'll make—?" he prompted.

Hermione flushed and hurriedly raised her cup. "You make a very good cup of tea."

Draco sighed and sat back in his chair. "How does your head feel? Do you want some more of that potion Gavin gave you?"

"No, the throbbing is almost gone. I'll be good as new by tomorrow morning. Well, almost as good." She fingered the bump gingerly and pulled a lock of hair down to cover it. She sighed and put her cup down, purposely changing to subject. "I'll go to see Christian Bruskoff first thing in the morning and the ads will be re-shot at his expense. It was a shabby thing to do but I won't let him get away with it."

Draco winced. "I don't want to talk about those damned advertisements!"

Hermione caught her breath. Was he still angry? "You do trust me to take care of it, don't you?" she asked anxiously. "You haven't lost faith in me, have you?"

He came over to sit next to her on the couch. Taking both her hands in his strong warm ones, he said, "Hermione…" The telephone rang at that moment and Draco jumped at the unfamiliar sound.

Hermione got up and answered the phone, wondering who could be calling her at her working hours. "Hello?" she asked tentatively.

"Hi, Herms!"

"Oh—Ron?" Her eyes went to Draco but he was staring out the window with his hands jammed in his pockets. "I didn't expect to hear from you again and—certainly didn't count on you using a telephone."

"You're kidding! Did you think I'd come to Wiltshire without looking you up again? That lunch we had together was the best part of my trip," he replied, ignoring her last statement.

"I'm sure you're exaggerating." Her eyes stayed with Draco who was standing motionless with his back to her.

Ron's voice became softly caressing. "You know I'm not, Herms."

"I can't talk to you now, Ron," she said sharply. "I'm quite busy."

"I just want to make a luncheon date with you."

"No! It's out of the question."

"Please, Herms, I have something I promised to deliver to you. Something from our friends back in Hogwarts."

"What is it?" She was torn between curiosity and the ominous aura that Draco was emitting.

"Nope, I can't tell you. It's a surprise. You'll have to meet me."

"Well, maybe I—" she broke off as Draco turned and reached for his coat. Putting her hand over the receiver, she said, "I'm sorry. I'll be through in a minute."

His eyes were cold. "Don't stop on my account, I have to be going."

"Oh, please," she put the phone down and trailed after him to the door. "I haven't even thanked you for all you have done."

"Forget it." His mouth was grim. "I would have done the same for anyone."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she started at the closed door. For just a little while things had been so perfect between them that she begun to hope that maybe they could start over, put all the bitterness behind them and have everything be as idyllic as it had been in the Virgin Islands. But Ron's suspicious phone call had put an end to that dream. She picked up the phone listlessly.

"Herms? Listen, how about tomorrow? You're really going to get a kick out of seeing what I have for you."

Well, why not? She couldn't allow herself to go on pining endlessly for Draco. It was time she started acting like an adult instead of a love-starved adolescent.

"Alright, Ron, tomorrow will be fine."

"Great! Shall we meet at the same place and time?"

"No!" It was unlikely they would bump into Draco again, but Hermione didn't care to chance it. "I'll meet you at the Four Seasons at one."

After she hung up, her head began to throb painfully again. Night was closing in and the living room looked gloomy in the lengthening shadows. Hermione had never felt so alone in her whole life.

It was her own fault too and that made it worse. Draco offered to stay, why hadn't she taken him up on it? She looked at the big chair he had occupied. Right now, she could be cuddled in his lap with his arms around her, holding her close to the warmth of his body.

Never mind the reason. What difference did it make if he was only being nice to her out of a sense of responsibility? Was pride worth this feeling of desolation, of wanting him until she ached? Oh well, it didn't matter now. He was gone and from the look on his face, he won't be coming back.

The tears were running down her cheeks as Hermione huddled on the couch in a miserable ball.

The next was cold and blustery with a hint of snow to come. Hermione walked up the broad shallow steps of the Seagram's Plaza, noting that the fountains on either side had been turned down to avoid spraying passersby.

In one of those rare occurrences, Ron arrived at the same time and he hailed her from the curb. She watched with a sense of unreality as he paid off the cab driver. She was his old best friend, almost grew up with him. She had been married to his man, slept next to him and shaped her life to his, yet he could have been a stranger. Even the bitterness had evaporated and she felt nothing.

They walked together into the restaurant and Ron paused for a moment, looking around the big charming room. "This was good choice, Herms. I've heard about this place but I've never been here."

Four Seasons held a unique position in Wiltshire. It attracted well-heeled tourists, but it was also frequented by locals. The spacious tiered room was designed around a large central square containing a fountain surrounded by a profusion of flowers: Chrysanthemums in the fall, Tulips in the spring, etc. There were large leafy tree spotted about and the whole atmosphere was one of hothouse elegance.

After the waiter took their drinks orders, Hermione asked, "What is it you have to show me?"

"Not yet. I want to keep you in suspense a little longer," Ron said coyly.

She sighed. "Please, Ron, I'm not in the mood for games. I have a lot on my mind and there is an important conference this afternoon."

The campaign was in its final stages and this was to be a combined meeting to go over release dates to the public media. Would Draco revert to his former bullying attitude towards her? Hermione's face paled at the thought.

"There isn't any trouble, is there? I mean, Malfoy was at your place yesterday when I called you. Yes, I heard his voice," he added at her raised eyebrows.

There was concern written plainly on his face and Hermione unbent a little. "No, it's just the last minute crunch of a million little details."

"That's a relief." The waiter brought their drinks and Ron lifted his glass. "Here's to your career, may it get bigger and better."

Her career. There was a time when it had been the most important thing in her life. Why didn't the mere thought of it bring the familiar excitement? But Hermione obediently raised her glass and took a small sip. "Now tell me what the surprise is."

"Alright, I guess the time has come." Ron reached into his pocket and took out a scroll of white paper tied with a red ribbon. He handed it to her, enjoying her mystified expression.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see."

Hermione unfolded the curled paper curiously and found that it was filled with numerous short messages addressed to her in a variety of handwritings. She examined them with growing excitement.

"I can't believe it! Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan! And Lavender and Parvati? Also Neville—and oh, Ron."

He looked indulgently at her shining eyes. "Yes, I told you that you'd like my surprise!"

"But how did you get all of these?"

"At the reunion. Didn't you get a notice about it?" he asked.

"Yes, but I was in the Virgin Islands." The letter had been in her pile of mails and messages when she got home.

"Really?" Ron exclaimed. "We—uh—I was there last year. Where did you stay?"

"On Draco's yacht," Hermione said.

Ron's eyebrows rose over suddenly speculative eyes. "I see."

"Tell me about the reunion! How is Harry and Ginny? How did they all look?"

"Not as good as you." He gazed at her fondly but Hermione shook her head impatiently.

"Tell me about everyone," she commanded. "For the past months, I've only been with the people from Slytherin! I miss the Gryffindors. I can't believe I missed the reunion." But it was worth it, she wanted to add.

They talked about all the people they had known and Hermione felt a rising tide of nostalgia. Those really had been the good old days, the age of innocence. It was especially thought of Ron to have this done for her and she felt a sudden warm feeling toward him.

Impulsively, she covered his hand with hers. "It was good of you to bring me this. I'll treasure it always."

"And think of me when you read it over, I hope," he said softly.

The intimacy in his tone made her uncomfortable and she looked away—straight into Draco's straight austere face. He was standing just inside the door when their eyes met. He inclined his head in a curt nod. Hermione caught her breath sharply and pulled her hand away from Ron's but it was too late. Draco turned on his heel and walked out.

He never made any attempt to hide his opinion of Ron and the contempt on his face just now indicated that he jumped to a faulty conclusion. It was just bad luck that he had come in and seen them at that precise moment. But what was he doing here in the first place? She only had lunch with Ron twice and it was too much of a coincidence to think they would run across Draco both times. Yet no one knew where she was lunching.

No, that wasn't quite true. Hermione's secretary had made the reservation for her. If Draco called the office, she would have told him. But why would he come looking for her? Whatever the reason, he changed his mind on seeing Ron.

"What's the matter, Herms? You look very pale." Ron craned his neck around but the doorway was empty.

"No, just someone I thought I knew but I guess I was mistaken."

Hermione's heart was beating fast when she walked into the meeting that afternoon. Draco was surrounded by people at the far end of the room and she prudently put her purse and briefcase on a chair at the opposite end of the table. Everyone took a seat soon after and Draco's nod of welcome included the entire assembled group. Still, Hermione couldn't relax. He hadn't done more than glance in her direction, but that didn't reassure her. Was he saving up a sarcastic tirade to hurt at her in front of the others?

Her fears were groundless however. The conference went well and for once they weren't any insurmountable problems. Draco evaluated and accepted all the reports and when the meeting broke up, there was a general feeling of deliverance. Hermione experienced it more than anyone but she rejoiced to soon.

She was almost out the door when Draco's voice stopped her. "I'd like you to stay for a moment, Hermione."


	17. Chapter XVII

**Chapter XVII **

She turned to face him, her eyes enormous but he merely said, "Are you feeling better today?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, I'm completely recovered, thank you."

His eyes swept over her smooth forehead. "I see."

"It's amazing what little make up can do," she said. "Women are luckier than men, they can hide anything."

"So I've noticed. Even emotions," he said coldly. "Your ex-husband for instance, seemed completely unaware of the hatred you profess for him."

"I don't hate Ron," she protested. "It was said in a moment of anger but I didn't really mean it."

"Are you telling me you didn't mean any of the other things you said in the heat of the same moment?" he asked softly.

Hermione bent her head while bright color stained her cheeks. He was referring to the night she told him she didn't want him. If only it were true! "Let me explain about Ron," she began desperately.

"There's nothing to explain. I think the touching scene in the restaurant told it all."

"But it wasn't like that! Ron brought a present yesterday and I was just thanking him."

"That's funny, I had the impression that you didn't like presents," he said sardonically.

"You're purposely misunderstanding," she cried. "This was a bunch of messages from my old friends. Ron had everyone write me little notes and I think it was very kind of him. It was fun talking over old times and we had a friendly lunch," she said defensively.

"It sounds delightful. Maybe next time he'll even bring along his wife," Draco said contemptuously. She whitened as though he struck her. He scowled and started toward her. "Oh, damn! Hermione—" But she turned and fled down the hall.

Their only contact during the rest of the week was over notes and solely to business. Draco's manner was pleasant and Hermione tried to make her equally so, but was an effort. She knew why he was such in a good mood. The gossip columns reported that he had a new romance, a model named Denise Wainwright. He had escorted her to a large charity ball and also to the opening night of a new play.

Then in the Sunday's paper, there was a picture of the two of them skiing at a ski resort and Hermione's heart sank. It was just that the other woman was gorgeous; a tall blonde with high cheekbones and striking slanted eyes. It was the way they were smiling at each other. Perhaps Draco couldn't help looking sexy, but there was no doubt that the beautiful model was out to stake a claim.

They were photographed at a ski lodge, both looking fit and happy in colorful ski outfits. Draco had his arm around her and it looked like she was trying to crawl inside his jacket, Hermione thought spitefully. After carefully staring at every detail for long moments, she carried the paper out to the kitchen and threw it in the trash bin.

On Monday morning, Hermione and John went to the Malfoy offices to show Draco the final revision on the broom and John commented on Draco's tan.

"I managed to get a weekend of skiing and the weather was great," Draco explained.

"Yes, I saw your picture in the paper yesterday. The weather did look beautiful," Hermione said coolly.

He shot her an amused look but before he could comment, John said, "That's the life alright, but was it worth it to go all that way for a weekend?"

Draco's eyes met the other man's and he winked. "It was worth it."

John smiled in broad understanding and Hermione fumed with a deep ache in her chest. "Do you _gentlemen_," she stressed the word slightly, "mind if we get on with it? I'd like a final approval so I can drop this ad at the printers."

From the exaggerated courtesy with which they treated her, Hermione knew they were laughing at her and it only added to her fury.

Back at the office, she banged papers around her desk and when the green flames roared in the fireplaces, she barked, "Yes?!"

"Gracious, Hermione, is that you?"

She glanced at the face appeared. "Pansy, how are you?"

"I'm fine but you sound like someone just told you your cat died."

"Oh, Pansy, I'm sorry. It's been one of those days," Hermione sighed. "But it's great to hear from you."

"You too, it's been much too long. We promised ourselves we would together. What happened?"

"The same thing that happens to all good intentions, I guess, like the end of those cruises where everyone promises to write and no one ever does," Hermione laughed.

"But we live in the same city for heaven's sake! Tell me what's going on with you. Has Draco been treating you alright?"

Hermione hesitated. She would love to have to have someone to confide in, but Pansy was after all, Draco's friend. "Everything's going along just fine," she said in false brightness, but she glanced away from the fireplace to the window.

There was a long pause and then Pansy said, "I have a feeling we'd better have a chat. How about lunch today? I found a little darling little place Chez Ramon." She supplied the address. "Meet me there in an hour."

Hermione hurried to clear up a few things on her desk that were urgent. It would be good to see Pansy again, although she hoped to steer the conversation away from Draco. Even thinking about him was like deliberately poking at a sore spot, knowing it was going to hurt.

Pansy was already seated when Hermione got to the restaurant and the two women embraced and looked at each other eagerly across the table.

"You look so business-like in that suit, Hermione. Is that the gamin child I last saw in blue jeans and a t-shirt?"

Hermione exclaimed over Pansy's outfit also, a stunning beige sun dress. Then they reminisced about the cruise until a waiter interrupted them with the menus and an explanation of the day's specialties.

After they ordered, Pansy got down to business. "So tell me, what's going on with you and Draco?"

"Let's see…the campaign is almost wrapped up. We just have a—"

"That isn't what I mean and you know it," Pansy interrupted. "I get the distinct impression that there is something wrong between you two."

Hermione was deliberately obtuse. "Not anymore. He was little difficult to work for at first, but I think we have everything straightened out now."

"Oh, Hermione, knock it off. You've done everything but tell me in so many words to mind my own business, but I'm not going to do it," Pansy said frankly. "I'm fond of you and I'm fond of Draco and I want you both to be happy."

"Oh, he's happy alright," Hermione said bitterly. "Make no mistake about that."

"What makes you think so?"

"Evidently, you haven't read the papers lately. He's splashed all over them with his new girl friend, Denise Wainwright."

Pansy laughed. "Just one of Draco's many little diversions. He's not serious about her."

"Not that it makes the slightest difference to me, but he certainly gave me a good imitation of it in that picture taken at that ski resort," Hermione said resentfully. "And in the office, he even said—" She stopped short.

"What did he say?" Pansy asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing—it was the way he didn't say it!"

Pansy laughed again. "For someone who couldn't care less, you're certainly getting steamed about this silly model."

"No, I'm not," Hermione insisted. "What he does is his own business. And besides, after the campaign is over I'll probably never see him again." Putting it into words was the hardest thing she had ever done.

"And how will you feel about that?"

Hermione carefully pleated the napkin on her lap. "It doesn't matter how I feel. It's what he wants."

"I don't believe it. I watched the two of you together on the yacht and there was real magic between you. I've never seen Draco like that with anyone else."

Hermione's smile was wistful. "Vacations don't count. Everyone promises to write, remember?"

"Did he change that much when you came back?"

"Yes! He was beastly to me for a while. He acted like how we were in Hogwarts."

"And that's not like him either. He's changed. Draco came over just to talk and he didn't sound at all like himself. I can tell when he's unhappy and I think it's about you."

"Did he mention my name?" Hermione held her breath.

"Yes, he said he was worried about you. That you were getting too thin and you didn't look well."

The light in Hermione's eyes died out. "Oh, that. He's just concerned about my accident." She told Pansy about the incident.

"It sounds more like than a simple case of the guilts to me. You say he took you home and actually made you a cup of tea? Draco? I've known him all my life and he never did that for me! I didn't even know he knew how."

"He can do anything," Hermione said simply.

"Pansy looked at her pityingly. "You're in love with him." It was a statement. When Hermione didn't respond, Pansy said fiercely, "Do something about it for heaven's sake! Don't let him slip through your fingers. Men like Draco come around about once a century."

As if she didn't know. But Hermione shook her head. "You don't understand."

"Let me give you a little advice, my dear. Whatever the misunderstanding is, don't let pride stand in your way. Take it from me, it makes for a cold bed fellow." Hermione looked down at her place in sudden embarrassment, realizing that Pansy was talking about herself. "It's alright, I know what people are saying."

Hermione detested Theodore Nott but she couldn't bear the sad little smile on her friend's face. "I don't see why that should make any difference."

Pansy's expression was rueful. "Yes, but I'm not stupid, Hermione. I cut off ties with him. We're done."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "You are?"

"Yes!" Pansy's smile held a hint of mischief. "Even thought, I know that Blaise is too good for me…"

Hermione grinned. "I'm sure he doesn't think so."

By the time she walked back to her office, Hermione felt better. Nothing changed, but having a friend like Pansy made her feel less alone in the world.


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Chapter XVIII **

The campaign was finally wrapped up the following Wednesday and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. It had been a stimulating and creative period, but it had been hectic and crisis-ridden. Hermione knew that in spite of the problems with Draco, she would the challenge but at the moment she felt only relief.

They were all collected in the art department drinking champagne and the mood was one of jubilation.

John raised his cup on high. "This is our finest hour, fellow workers." He was always inclined toward rhetoric and several drinks enhanced the tendency.

Traybert Spencer, the art director, drained his glass. "Right! I think we all deserve a bonus."

"Now, wait a minute, let's not get carried away," John said. He hadn't had _that_ much to drink.

Several boisterous voices chimed in at the same time. "Let's hear it for the bonus!", "Great idea!", "Three cheers for Traybert!"

"What are you talking about? You clowns were only doing your job," John said scornfully. "If any deserves a bonus, it's Hermione. She had Malfoy eating out of her hand."

"Better count your fingers, Hermione," Thomas Porcher, the media buyer said cynically. "That guy is the toughest client I have ever worked for."

One of the pretty secretaries took exception. "How can you say that? I think he's absolutely dreamy! How about it, Hermione, isn't he the most?"

She hoped to stay out of it, but when appealed directly Hermione chose her words with great care. "It was very interesting working for him. I think I learned some invaluable lessons."

"He's the one to teach you," Paul admitted grudgingly. "That was the whole trouble. He knows so much about going on that you'd better not try to fool him. It isn't possible anyway. The guy is a super man."

Hermione swirled the champagne around in her glass and watched the miniature vortex. Yes, Draco was a super man and he had taught her a lot, including things she didn't want to know. Things like feeling heaven in the arms of someone you adore who you used to hate with all your guts, and how your heart turns to sawdust when you know you'll never have that joy again.

"I can't wait to see how super man lives," Betsy, one of the copywriters said. "You've been there, Hermione. Is it utterly fantastic?"

"Yes, it's very nice."

"Nice? Is that all you can say? I'll bet it's a lot more than that! You act like you aren't excited about the party tomorrow night?"

Hermione looked at her blankly. "What party?"

"Are you joking? No, that's right, you weren't there this afternoon when he invited everyone. Mr. Malfoy is having a party at his apartment tomorrow night for all the people who worked on the campaign, isn't that nifty?" Fortunately, she didn't wait for an answer because Hermione was having trouble breathing, let alone speaking. The last party at Draco's was seared on her brain—including the way it had ended. "I wish I had time to buy a new dress, but I guess my blue silk will have to do," Betsy babbled on. "What are you going to wear, Hermione?"

"I—uh—since this is the first time I've heard of it. I don't know if I'll be able to go."

"I don't believe it! How could you pass up a chance to see how the other half lives?"

"I've seen it," Hermione told her succinctly. "And it's a little too rich for my blood."

"But you have to go," Betsy protested. "An invitation from a client is almost like a command performance."

"An _ex­_-client. We did our job and now it's over," Hermione said dully.

"What's going on?" John Warren stayed at the top of his field party by sensing trouble and always managing to be around to defuse it. "Any problems?"

"Hermione says she's not going to the party tomorrow night," Betsy said with disbelief.

"I only said—"

"I'm sure you misunderstood," John said smoothly. "Hermione is a real professional and she knows how much good will means in our business. We don't insult a client jus because our association is temporarily at an end." He was ostensibly speaking to Betsy, but Hermione knew the message was directed at her. "Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow night, Hermione?" he asked pleasantly.

She met his eyes and capitulated. "No, I have my way, thank you."

Hermione left the party and went back to her own office. She wasn't in a mood to celebrate. Part of her was looking forward fiercely to tomorrow night and a chance to be with Draco one last time, perhaps to dance with him and rest her head against his shoulder while his arms circled her in a remembered way that she wanted so desperately to experience again. But the other part of her warned that it was time to start the healing process. If she was ever going to get on with her life, she had to stay away from him and try to forget.

As though he were aware of her pitiful efforts and was determined to thwart them, the fireplace roared and Draco's frowning face appeared. "Where were you today?" he demanded without preamble.

"I was cleaning up a few last minute details in the office, but you didn't need me," she said defensively. "Everything is over."

"Is it?"

"I don't know what you mean. Is anything wrong?" Hermione asked anxiously.

There was a small smile on his face. "Nothing irretrievable, I hope." He changed the subject. "Did John tell you about the party tomorrow night?"

"Yes, a few minutes ago."

"You'll be there, won't you?" It wasn't a question.

"I was told it was obligatory," Hermione said tartly.

"Don't you want to come?" he asked softly.

What could she say? She didn't know the answer to that herself. "Would it make a difference if I said no?"

"None at all. You and I have some unfinished business and if you're not there tomorrow night, I'm going to come looking for you."

"What kind of—"

"Tomorrow night, Hermione," he interrupted firmly and cut the connection.

The next day brought the let-down that Hermione had anticipated. It was hard to switch for high gear into low. There would be other campaigns and the adrenaline would flow once more, but at present there wasn't a lot to do. The main topic around the office was the party that evening.

At lunch time, Hermione decided she needed something cheer herself up and what better than a new dress? She promised to stop by and see Pansy's collection and this seemed like the perfect time.

Pansy's showroom was in the garment center and as soon as she caught sight of the guild, she began to regret her decision. What was the point in spending a lot of money for a dress to wear just for tonight? If her intention was to dazzle Draco and she couldn't pretend that wasn't the reason, it was an exercise in futility. How could she complete with a professional beauty like Denise Wainwright? His mention of unfinished business couldn't mean anything of a personal nature. But was too late now, Pansy had seen her through the large glass window pane.

Hermione's spirits could help being lifted a short time later by all the exquisite things her friend showed her. "Pansy, you really are a genius. These things are all divine!" she exclaimed.

"I'm glad you like them. I might screw up my personal life, but at least here I know what I'm doing," Pansy agreed without conceit. "I pulled a few things that I believe would suit you, but this is the one that I think has your name on it."

Her choice was a gray panned velvet dinner suit with a matching pale gray blouse. The rich gleam of the jacket and full skirt was a perfect for the delicate fabric of the blouse and the small white satin collar lent a perfect finishing touch of elegance.

"It's gorgeous!" Hermione gasped. "But I don't think it'll suit me at all."

"Non sense." Pansy dismissed her protest crisply. "You can't afford not to have it! Wait until Draco sees you in it, you can't imagine how sexy it is on you! And with that half-revealing blouse, he'll gave to fight off the men tonight."

"You heard about the party?"

"I'll be there. Draco invited a lot of his friends to help kick off the campaign."

Sot it was to be a big bash. "I wonder—not that it matters, of course. But I wonder if his new girlfriend will be there."

"Denise? Are you still worried about her?" Pansy asked impatiently. "Here, go put this on. I want to see how it looks," she commanded.


	19. Chapter XIX

**Chapter XIX **

Hermione stood in front of Draco's door that night and nervously smoothed the velvet skirt over her slim hips. The outfit was a dream and she knew she had never looked better in her life, but that didn't stop her hands from shaking.

She took great pains with her appearance, applying a touch of gray eye shadow that accented the brown color of her eyes and curling the long lashes. Her freshly washed hair swept her shoulders like a silken curtain and excitement had brought a flush to her cheekbones. But Hermione was gripped by an apprehension she couldn't shake.

She was a little late and the party was in full swing. The large room was already full and huddled near the entry were a group of co-workers who seemed unnaturally subdued by their unaccustomed plunge into high society. Hermione went to join them.

After they greeted her, Betsy whispered, "How about this place? You could put my whole apartment in this one room."

"And have space left over for mine," Traybert agreed. "Now I know why the rich are different from me—they have more money."

Draco appeared with John in tow. "We were wondering what happened to you, Hermione." John's tone expressed disapproval at her tardiness and she felt a surge of resentment. She was here, wasn't she? What more did he want?"

"Can I get you a drink?" Draco asked, and without waiting for an answer, he put his hand on her arm and drew her away from the others. His eyes swept over her appreciatively. "You're looking very lovely tonight. I don't think I've ever seen you quite this way. You look like a model."

"I wasn't trying to compete, if that's what you're implying," she said distantly.

For a moment, he looked black and then amusement curled his lips. "You mean you're going to give me up without a struggle?"

"One doesn't give up what one has never owned," she said primly, knowing even as she said it, how awkward her little speech sounded.

He raised a derisive eyebrow. "I wasn't aware of the fact that you wanted to own me."

"I don't!"

"That's too bad, because I want to own you."

His warm hands moved to her shoulders and Hermione felt her treacherous heart begin to pound. "Well, at least you're honest."

"Have I ever been anything else with you?"

She had to admit that he hadn't but that didn't make any better. He coveted her body and nothing else. "No, I know exactly how you feel about me," Hermione said bitterly.

"Do you?" His soft voice and the unbearably sensuous feel of his long fingers moving on her shoulders were destroying Hermione's tightly held control.

She twitched away from him. "I don't think this is the time or place for such an erotic conversation."

He threw back his head and laughed. The people standing in their immediate vicinity cast curious glances and Hermione fidgeted nervously. "You're an adorable faker," he drawled. "But unfortunately, that prim and proper act of yours is wasted on me. I know what you can do to me when I touch in all the right places, love."

Her face was scarlet with embarrassment. "Draco! How could you?"

The laughter was gone and the fingers that gripped her shoulders were now like steel spikes. "I could and would do anything to make you come to your sense. You belong to me, Hermione, we both know that. I can give you everything you want, why won't you admit it?"

Hermione should have felt anger at his materialistic assessment of her but all she felt was a crushing sense of shame. How could he think that jewels and money were what she wanted? If only that were true! What she really wanted, he wasn't prepared to offer. But even knowing that, it was torture not to be able to reach out and touch him.

She wanted to run her fingers through that blond hair and unbutton that shirt so that she could feel his firm chest against her soft yielding one. But only because she loved him, not for anything he could do for her except carry her to paradise in his arms. How could he misunderstood and degrade her so?

Hermione's head was bent to try and hide the incipient tears so she didn't see Janis approach and notice the malicious glitter in her eyes.

"You have another guest, Draco," Janis said softly.

"What the devil—" His angry exclamation was choked off and Hermione glanced up to see the reason.

Denise Wainwright was making her way toward them and heads were turning in her direction. She made a striking figure in her slinky beaded gown, her model's walk making the most of every movement.

She stopped in front of Draco and gave him a blue-eyed smile. "Surprise, darling! I decided to crash your party, wasn't that terrible of me?" Her confident air denied the apologetic words.

"This is a surprise, Denise," he said urbanely, but his eyes were devoid of warmth and Hermione wondered if they had a quarrel. "I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger."

The stunning blonde's glance flickered over Hermione and dismissed her after a disinterested hello. She turned her attention back to Draco. "Aren't you glad to see me?" She pouted prettily.

"Glad isn't the word I would have used," he said mockingly.

A petulant expression crossed the perfect face. "I thought you'd be pleased."

Evidently they had a quarrel, but Hermione didn't want to stay around to witness the reconciliation. With a murmured excuse, she evaded Draco's attempt to stop her and she backed away hurriedly.

Her flight carried her to the opposite end of the room where Pansy called to her. "Hermione, let me look at you. You look divine, doesn't she, Blaise?"

Surprise flickered over Blaise's face. "No doubt about it," he agreed.

"What did Draco say when he saw you?" Her friend asked.

"He compared me to Denise—unfavorably."

"I don't believe it!" Pansy exclaimed.

"Believe it," Hermione said shortly. "I think they had a little lover's spat, but when I left they were about to make up."

"You mean she's here?" Pansy asked incredulously.

"Yes. If you were a man, you would have seen her. Every other male in the room did."

"Am I missing something?" Blaise asked.

"Be quiet, Blaise," Pansy said absently. A small frown puckered her eyebrows. "I could have sworn he wouldn't invite her tonight. I wonder what she's doing here."

The crowd parted and they had a clear glimpse of Denis whispering in Draco's ear and fiddling slowly with his tie.

"What the hell!" Blaise muttered in surprise, a slight frown on his face.

Hermione turned her back to him while a knife of pain threatened to double her up.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry. I really thought—" Pansy's face was woebegone.

"It's alright," Hermione raised her chin gallantly. "I'll be fine."

"I want to talk to you, Hermione." Draco's deep voice at her back threatened to destroy all of her resolve.

She drew a shuddering breath and turned swiftly to Blaise, not trusting herself to look at Draco. "I'm sorry, but I promised Blaise this dance." Almost dragging him after her, she moved toward the improvised dance floor.

"I don't know what\s wrong with you two, but definitely don't like it," Blaise drawled.

"I hope you don't mind but I don't like to talk about it," she murmured. "But I'd like thank you for letting me get away from him. I just can't bear to be near him at the moment."

"I understand," he said gently.

Hermione glanced up and saw Draco watching them. She turned her face away swiftly from his intense eyes. She let the song end before tearing herself away from Blaise. She muttered a quick thank you before running off the dance floor.

Her need to be alone carried her to the powder room where she locked the door and stared at her feverish reflection in the mirror. The horrible sight of Draco and Denise Wainwright together was almost like a dagger stabbed in her chest. It was just too painful.

When she felt composed enough to face people again, Hermione went reluctantly back to the party but she stayed far away from the small group of Pansy, Draco and Blaise. Blaise nodded to her across the room but she ignored his beckoning hand.

The group of McNulty and Trent moved over to the long windows overlooking the city and Hermione went to join them.

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Betsy asked. "We thought you deserted us."

"She's been mingling with the upper crust," Traybert joked. "She doesn't have time for us peasants!"

"Of course, I was," Hermione smiled the first time that night.

"I saw you dancing with one of the uppert crust," Paul commented.

"He's kind of cute, who is he?" Betsy asked.

"Draco's good friend, but owned I'm afraid." Hermione informed her shortly and changed the subject. "There is food in the other room if anyone is hungry."

Traybert was a huge bear of a man and his bearded face took on a look of scorn. "Man was not meant to live hors d'oeuvres alone. My stomach just put in an order for a couple of burgers and some beer." The others greeted the idea with enthusiasm. "How about you, Hermione? Will you join us?"

She accepted gratefully. "Just wait until I get my coat and I'll be right with you."

Draco appeared in time to hear her words. "You're leaving?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes, I—we promised to stop over somewhere." She was acutely conscious of her co-workers listening to their exchange and only prayed that Draco wouldn't be too explicit.

His mood didn't auger well as his frown deepened. "I told you there was something we needed to talk about."

"Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?" she pleaded.

"No." The single word spike volumes and Hermione glanced around helplessly.

"Why don't we go on ahead and you can join us later?" Paul helped her out.

There was nothing she could do with Draco standing there so intractably. Hermione smiled weakly. "Perhaps that would be best." But when they had safely gone, she turned on Draco angrily. "You didn't have to embarrass me in front of my friends."

"How did I do that?" His eyebrows raised in polite inquiry.

"You know very well! By showing them you have some kind of hold over me."

Amusement lightened his expression. "I didn't know I did."

"Oh no?" she asked scornfully. "You've been holding that—that time in the Virgin Islands over my head, using it at every opportunity to force me into submission."

His smile widened into a grin. "My sweet Hermione, the only way I could force you into anything would be by using actual force. And sometimes, I'm tempted. If I had any hold over you at all, I'd try to cram some sense about men into that stubborn little head of yours."

"You've taught me enough about men to last a lifetime!" she cried.

Without realizing it, Hermione's voice had risen but it seemed to add to Draco's amusement. "For a lady who is so fired up about appearances, you're creating a small scene. I'm sure everyone thinks we're having a lover's quarrel. Shall we kiss and make up for them?" he asked derisively.

Hermione looked around nervously and noticed that the people closest were indeed staring. "I'm sorry," she muttered in a low voice.

"Come on." He took her by the hand. "We'll continue this discussion in private where you can shout at me to your hearts content."


	20. Chapter XX

**Chapter XX **

She was demoralized but she followed him without a word, but when she saw where they were heading, she tried to pull away. "I'm not going to your bedroom again."

His grip on her wrist was inexorable. "It's the only the place where we can be alone. Contrary to what you think, I invite very few people there."

That reminded her of Denise. "What happened to your girlfriend? She must be feeling very neglected."

"I have many…girlfriends as you put it," he said mockingly. "But I assume you're referring to Denise. I wouldn't worry about her if I were you."

"I wasn't worried, I'm sure she has instructions to come back when it's less crowded," she remarked acidly.

Draco scanned her face intently. "Would that bother you?"

"Certainly not!" Hermione tried very hard to make her voice casual because the picture of Draco and the beautiful model in his arms made her almost physically ill.

"Are you sure?"

Hermione backed away from him, her breathing rapid. He must know how he affected her. He was playing with her like a dangerous predator closing in on its prey and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, unable to answer.

"Then I suppose there isn't any use in asking you to stay the night?"

"You know better than that," she said stiffly.

His face hardened and there was a hint of scorn in the way his mouth turned down at one corner. "Yes, I suppose I do. It would be most uncharacteristic. You would have to examine the idea first and weigh all the advantages and disadvantages, wouldn't you?"

"How can you say that?" she cried, stung by his cynical words. "You were the one who—" Her voice trailed away. _He was the one who establish the kind of relationship he wanted—and with the payment_. She had gone to him gladly with no thought of reward except to be with him. She hadn't even burdened him with a declaration of her love because she knew he didn't want it.

"I was the one who—?" he prodded, watching her closely. "Go on."

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't matter now."

He put his hands on her shoulders and an electric current charged her blood. She bent her head to keep the knowledge from him but he forced her chin up. "Tell me what went wrong, Hermione. I honestly don't know."

Tears threatened but she forced them back. "What difference does it make? It's all over with anyway. The campaign is finished and we'll probably never see each other again."

"Is that what you want?"

She couldn't say it no matter how hard she tried. Hermione closed her eyes to hide the pain and when she opened them, he was watching her with a strange light stirring in his eyes.

"Maybe we'll run into each other around town," she said huskily.

"That isn't likely. I'm leaving for Paris on Sunday and I'm going to stay."

They wouldn't even be on the same continent! Maybe it was better that way. Her eyes wouldn't be drawn to every tall man who stood out above the crowd. She wouldn't go on hoping to see that strong handsome face or keep listening for a deep authoritative voice.

She forced a smile. "How wonderful, I hope you have a nice vacation. You really deserve it. You worked as hard as any of us."

"That's one of the compliments you ever paid me," he said wryly. "But this isn't vacation. I'm going there to buy out the old company. We've been negotiating for a long time and they just accepted our offer. It's going to be quite a challenge. The company has been going downhill since the owner died. I don't know how long I'll have to stay over there to get it back on its feet."

"Maybe what you need is the services of a good advertising agency," she smiled.

"If I didn't know you better, Hermione, I'd think you were hinting that you'd like to come along."

She stiffened. "I was speaking for McNulty and Trent, not for myself personally."

"There's no need to bristle like a little porcupine," he laughed. "I know you wouldn't willingly go anywhere with me. I had to practically kidnap you to get you to the Virgin Islands." Hermione bent her head and examined her nails with great interest, but Draco moved closer and held her chin in his palm. His voice was softly seductive. "You do remember the time at the beach, don't you?"

"I'm trying to forget it."

"Are you absolutely sure?" he murmured. His long fingers traced the curve of her mouth, gently parting the lips and then moving up her cheek to the curves of her ear like a blind man reverently touching a work of an art and Hermione felt the exciting heat rising in her body.

"Oh, please!"

"Please what, my love? Please make love to you again like I did on the sand?" He bent his head until his mouth was just inches from hers but he didn't kiss her. "Tell me you want me, Hermione."

She was drowning but she made a desperate effort to save herself. Her eyes closed. "No…no, I don't."

"I think you do."

His arms drew her against his body, molding her to its length until she could feel his arousal. She started to tremble uncontrollably and he held her close. His hand tangled in her hair drawing her head back and his mouth claimed hers, gently at first and then hot and hard the next.

Hermione closed her eyes and gave up the uneven struggle. A savage flame seemed to consume her and she returned his deep kisses. She slipped her hands inside his jacket and put her arms around his waist, her hands spreading out over his muscular back in a whirl of remembrance.

He lifted his head and his eyes were blazed with desire for her. "You want me."

"Yes," she sighed. How could she deny it when he was holding her in his arms like this right now?

She drew back his head down to hers and he kissed her harder, his tongue tangling with hers, mimicking a dance. Nothing mattered except being in his arms like this. He picked her up and drew her legs around his waist and guided them to the bed, and set her down gently. "Oh no, Draco…not with a house full of people out there!"

He stretched out next to her and put a restraining arm over waist. "I'll lock the door if it will make you feel any better."

"No…we can't! They—what will they think?"

"I don't care what they think! I want you now."

"Draco, please," she pleaded.

When he saw that she was really disturbed, he gave in reluctantly. "Alright, I waited this long, I guess I can wait a little longer." A smoldering passion darkened his eyes to slate gray as he sensuously ran his hand up and down her thigh. His head bent down to kiss the wildly beating pulse on the base of her throat, and soon his mouth was trailing wet kisses from her throat to her collar bone. "If those people know what's good for them, they'll clear out fast," he growled as he lifted his head.

A bubble of sheer happiness seemed to envelop Hermione. "Haven't you ever heard that patience is a virtue?" she teased.

"I think my present restraint qualifies me for sainthood, that's enough virtue for me." His gaze swept over her with an urgent look gathering. "It's really hard for me to be patient with you." He took a deep breath. "Maybe we'd better change the subject before my halo slips. Let's talk about Paris."

Reality intruded and Hermione's bubble threatened to burst. It wasn't fair that Draco was going away now that they found each other again. She would just have to make the most of the time they had left.

Bending her head, she asked in a low voice, "Would you like me to stay here?"

"What do you mean? You're coming with me, of course."

She looked up in surprise. Hermione meant to stay with him until he left. The idea of going along never occurred to her. "I—I don't think I could on such short notice. We aren't very busy right now, but vacations have to be arranged ahead of time."

He frowned. "That sounds like the old Hermione—the one who has to plan everything very carefully."

"It isn't like that. Please be reasonable, Draco. I just can't take off from work whenever I feel like it."

"Why not?" he demanded.

She sat up and pushed some pillows behind her back so that she could lean against the headboard. "What would you do if an employee walked off the job without notice?"

"I'd fire him or her," he said promptly. "But what does that have to do with you? You don't even have to work. You're rich, you're not a very gallant person, I can tell."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Come on, Draco. You know how I enjoy working for McNulty and Trent."

"You're right. I won't put any pressure on you. I just hope that you would want to be with me as much as I want to be with you."

"Draco, I do!"

"Then what are we arguing about?" He took her hand and kissed each fingertip. "Paris is the city of lovers and we're going to uphold its reputation." He put his arms around her and drew her head down to his shoulder. "I'll have to work during the day, at least at first, but you'll be waiting for me when I come home. Preferably in bed." He smirked.

She looked up at him with mock petulance. "It doesn't sound like I'm going to see much of Paris."

He chuckled huskily. "No, I intend to show you every inch of Paris."

Hermione stirred in his arms. "I just want to be with you, Draco."

"I know, love. That's what makes you so wonderful." He took her face in his hands and gave her a gentle kiss. "It's going to be like a honeymoon. Not a real one, of course. When get back here—I'm taking you back to the Virgin Islands for the real thing," he said, his hand absently running up and down her back. Hermione looked up at him with all of her love shining in her eyes and he caught his breath.

Her head lay back against his shoulder and he touched her cheek almost reverently. Hermione's lips parted willingly under his and the kiss deepened into a sensual, mind-spinning exploration of mouths that left them both breathless. Her hands went inside his shirt, delighting the feel of his chest. He groaned and his fingers trailed down the pure line of her throat, cupping both her breasts for a few moments before he firmly removed her hands.

"That's enough of that, young lady. We sill have some talking to do."

"Can't we talk later?" She nuzzled her face in his neck and trailed kisses to his jaw.

"You're insatiable," he laughed.

"Only because I love you."

"And I love you."

Hermione lay very still in his arms. "You've never said that to me before."

He lifted his head from the crook of her neck and looked at her in surprise. "I must have."

"No."

"And what conclusions did that make you leap to?" he teased. "Hermione, my little idiot, don't you know that I'm crazy for you?"

She was delirious with joy, but a little nagging doubt needed to be put to rest. "You certainly didn't look like you were thinking about me when you went out with Ms. Wainwright."

He laughed and hugged her close. "I tried everything else and I was desperate. She was my last effort to make you jealous. But you should know I'm spoiled for anyone else when I've been with you. I couldn't even look at other women…" He shook his head.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Hermione teased.

"Not really, as long as I have you, I feel happy. I've never been this happy since I was a child."

"As do I. You'll never know how much I suffered when I saw your pictures in the papers with Denise Wainwright."

"I didn't think I'd succeed in making you jealous," he grinned.

"Beyond your wildest dreams," she admitted. Hermione shamelessly fished for compliments. "She's very beautiful though. Much more so that I am, you have to admit."

"No, I don't. You're not only beautiful, but enchanting and sexy. And if you don't marry me pretty soon, I'm going to do something drastic."

"What did you say?" She struggled to sit up in his arms.

"I'm asking you to be my wife, is that clear enough?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Her eyes widened as he revealed a huge pear-shaped diamond ring inside.

"I don't know what to say."

"How about a yes to my proposal?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She rained kisses on his mouth, face and throat. When she lifted her head, she saw his eyes glazed with passion. She started, "I believe…" She took his hand and lifted it above her heart. "This is yours."

He captured her lips again. When he finally raised his head, the leaping flames in his eyes were mirrored in Hermione's.

"We'll have a small wedding. Just friends and family," he said in a husky voice. "But how do you feel about starting our honeymoon tonight?"

The smile they exchanged was of love and intimacy. "I was afraid you'd never ask," but then her smile faded a tad.

Draco frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I—I thought about what went wrong before."

"Does it really matter now? We're back together—for life, mind you."

"Yes—it does. I—I," she stuttered. She was nervous because this might ruin what they had back again. "Do you remember when you gave me that bracelet when we returned from the islands?" At his curt nod, she continued. "I—I thought that you only wanted an affair with me. And I was afraid that you were only using me." She watched his expression carefully. "I knew you wanted something temporary and leave me broken again."

Draco tightened his hold around her. "I have to be honest with you. I never thought that you would get under my skin. It was much unexpected. In fact, I only thought it would go far as a few dates but nothing deeper than that. Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 !-- /* Font Definitions */ font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ , , {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} 1 {page:Section1;} -- Then I discovered, it just wasn't enough. I just couldn't stop myself from wanting you..."

They shared another kiss of promise, love and desire. It was a kiss of love forever and more.

A/N: Honest to God, I have never heard of that Margaret person. I'm not really much into romance, but I just thought it was the way how they do it? I'm more into supernatural and sci-fi. The only romance books I have ever read was from Nicholas Sparks. Just thought I might clear that up. Plaigirism isn't my thing. Thanks.

Anyways, there, I changed the ending again. Sorry, I couldn't help with the Moulin Rouge song. I just got to watch it before I wrote it and I was just so touched. Lol. I hope that's better. I'm not going to edit this again. I'm already finished and I don't wanna go through it again. So I'm backing off stories and books for a long time. Hmm.


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